7th Heaven

Eric: It's going to be okay. Annie: It's not gonna be okay! It's only gonna get worse. I'm only gonna get fatter, and older, and tireder, and fatter! Then, when I'm at my oldest and tiredest and fattest, then I have to give birth to my fattest baby ever, probably with the world record head! Ruthie: Yeah. If you ask me, the only thing you Daddies have to do to make a baby is the fun part.

Matt: Hang in there, it's only what? Six months? Eric: Yes son, and while I try to balance the demands of the church with those of my pregnant wife, you'll be right here sharing the misery and joy with your dear old dad. Matt: Not if I can help it. I'm going to check out housing today, just in case they had a cancellation. I saved my money this summer. Eric: I thought you were going to get a car with your money. Matt: Well, the way I see it, a car gets me away form the house during the day, where as a room on campus gets me away day and night. Yes, I'm still close by if I ever want to visit. Or eat. Or do laundry. Eric: Or borrow the car? Mat: Yeah. Eric: Well we only have two cars in this family and Mary, God help us, is going to be driving in a matter of weeks. Matt: That still leaves one car. Eric: Yes, it leaves my car. Matt: You saw the pants, Dad. You're not going anywhere.

Annie: Are you going to drop the kids off on the way to registration? Matt: It's not exactly on the way. Yes, of course I can. Anything else I can do for you? Annie: Yes. If you ever get married, and if your wife is ever pregnant, just admit that she's the one having the baby, not the two of you, not you and her, just her. She's having the baby, the woman has the baby, okay? Just do me that one favor. Matt: Promise. Annie: And don't make promises you can't keep. Matt: Okay.

Annie: How is that I'm the one who has to watch every single morsel of food that I put into my mouth, and yet those crumbs turn into pounds and more pounds and more pounds, despite the fact that I've already puked most of what I've eaten the day before by the time I get out of bed the next morning? Ruthie: Yeah, we're fat and we're sick. Annie: And tired you know I'm really, really tired. It's not like having a baby at twenty or thirty, I'm…. Ruthie: Old. Annie: And I've got six months to go. Six more months. Six months of tryinig to wear clothes that make me look... Eric: Like you're having a baby. Our baby. Ruthie: Yeah, our big fat baby. Annie: Yeah, she's right. You know that I was seven months pregnant with Matt before I was in maternity clothes. And now, at three months look at me, I'm fat. I'm old. I'm tired. And I'm fat. Ruthie: Yeah, I can't get in nothing of mine, neither. Eric: You can't get into anything Ruthie, you don't fit into your clothes because you're getting bigger and that's because you're getting older. Ruthie: Yeah, just like Mommy.

Matt: I just want to know if Mom is feeling any better? Eric: She can't fit into her pants, she's not gonna be happy until she can. Meanwhile, I have to find some place to take her for our 20th anniversary that's appropriately romantic, yet doesn't remind her that I'm the one that got her too big to fit in her pants. I've been down this road five times and it's a long cranky road. Matt: I remember when you put on a few pounds you were cranky too. Eric: Yeah, but that was different. I wasn't providing a nurturing environment for a developing human being. And I have to say if I were... I think I be thrilled. I'd be elated... I'd be... Annie: ...Miserable. You know, you think you know what it's like, but you don't, you really don't. You know nothing. Eric: Nothing.

Simon: Just in case what isn't better? Ruthie: My morning sickness. Simon: Oh, give it up already. Ruthie: MOMMY! Eric: Simon, be nicer to your sister. This isn't easy on her and she's just a little girl. Simon: You say it like it's a weakness or something.