Personal Hygiene While In Your Third Trimester

With my last pregnancy, I had a corporate job. Suits were required.  A pregnant person gets away with a lot, though, while on the job.  I did have three pregnancy corporate suits, which have been somewhat forgotten in this present pregnancy, although, I will be forced to wear those maternity corporate suits at home since I am running out of maternity clothes that fit me.  But today's blog is about showering. The kind you do in the bathroom. I showered daily with my last job in my third trimester, for obvious reasons. But I have no clue how I did it, because I also was very huge.  It is so hard to shower these days that I often skip it for days. Why bother? I can't reach my legs and feet to soap them up. The belly gets scalded with the hot water. I drop the soap constantly, and it is no picnic to pick up a soap bar in the shower with a humongous appendage attached to your stomach.  All I do these days is take my daughter to and from school, go to the grocery store, post office, bank, get on the occasional bus, etc. Again, why bother? If I douse a little perfume on me, who will notice I haven't bathed in days? After all, that's how the French do it! The whole purpose of perfume, in my opinion, is to disguise body odor. At least, that is why it was invented. 
This morning, however, I got a whiff of myself. Coupled with not remembering the last time I got in the shower is probably not a good sign of cleanliness. Today I must take a shower.  Please don't think I am a disgusting person. I don't really sweat anyway. I wear different clothes and change my underwear everyday, does that count? (Underwear is a whole other topic. My underwear lays low because there is no way it goes over the belly and I am not about to go buy big women's underwear like I did in my last pregnancy and felt like a freak.) I think it averages out to about a shower a week. It's all I can handle. And as much as I would love to enjoy a luxurious bath, NYC apartments aren't really geared towards that. Most of the baths here aren't standard size. Perfect for my daughter. but there is zero possibility of getting my hugeness into the tub.  Plus, knowing me, I'd probably hurt myself getting in. Getting out would also yield a zero possibility.  Oh, how I would love a bath, though, with bubbles and candles, a book and classical music, cookies and milk. Dream on!