So I’ve been trying to be a little healthier this pregnancy.
For me, that mostly means not eating ice cream every single night, but more like weekly, eating apples when I really just feel like eating my kids’ leftover mac & cheese, and horror of horrors…
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like exercising as much as the next slightly overweight person. In my non-pregnant days, I’ve even been known to run a 10 mile race or one.
I genuinely enjoy running, albeit slowly, and I have come to that adult place where I can trick myself into pretending that exercise is “me” time.
But that doesn’t mean anything to me when I am pregnant.
When I am pregnant, I gain weight just by breathing.
When I am pregnant, I feel like Shamu from the day I take the positive test.
When I am pregnant, all I really want to do is take a nap, “pregnancy glow” be damned.
But because I hadn’t gotten back in shape after Jake was born and because the number on the scale I reached with him truly haunts me in my nightmares, I exercise almost every day now. Mind you, we’re not talking earth shattering stuff here. We’re talking 30 minutes of “New Girl” on the elliptical and a few modified push-ups.
Except for Monday nights.
Monday nights, I drag my pregnant buns to a ridiculous cardio kickboxing class where I am proud to serve as a source of inspiration to the elderly women of the group who look at me and set their shoulders back a little straighter with resolve thinking, surely, if she can do it, so can I.
Monday nights, I make a fool of myself kicking and punching and yes, even doing jumping jacks, just hoping and praying that today won’t be the day I pee my pants in public.
Monday nights, I come home so exhausted that apparently, I prompt my husband to look me over, as he did so tonight, and say, “Wow, honey, you really look pregnant tonight. I mean, up `till now, only your belly has looked pregnant, but now, well, like your face looks pregnant.”
If I had the energy, I think I would have stabbed him with my fork.
But really, I didn’t.
Because try as I might to think I can pull it off and look like one of those cutesy, in-shape pregnant women, there is only one simple truth about me and pregnancy exercise.
And that is this: