About a week after we found out I was pregnant Jake announced that he might get a personal trainer to “get back in shape before the baby gets here.”
I almost spit in his face.
Instead, I calmly maturely and very very convincingly (UFC holds really do work in spite of significant size-differentials) explained that while I would soon be seeing numbers on the scale usually associated with his favorite offensive linemen, it was his job to pork right on up with me.
Hadn’t he ever heard of sympathy weight?!
Thankfully, he saw the light fairly quickly (just in time to get the oxygen back to that cute head of his) and while not whole-heartedly joining me in every single late-night Frosty, he still held up his fair end of the beefing-up bargain through an impressive combination of Chipotle burritos and “drinking for two.”
Then he went and had massive shoulder-surgery and dropped (I kid you not) like 20 pounds in a week. The nerve of some people.
Enter Thanksgiving… a preggo’s dream-come-true.
I, however, am working on Thanksgiving. Waamp Waaahm. But before you go feeling too sorry for me let me point out the glorious fact that all this really means is that I get to eat Thanksgiving dinner twice. Once at the station (thank you, oh benevolent managers), and once at my in-laws house (prepared by my Top Chef-esque Father-in-Law. Yummm). And I don’t think I’ve every been hungrier on a Thanksgiving before in my life. My sympathies to the poor turkey soul that crosses my path.
Only one problem I’m seeing in this scenario… by some bizarre, cruel, and horrible twist of fate, ever since I hit the 3rd Trimester I’ve been getting full after snarfing down a mere fraction of (what has become) my usual feed-trough glory. How can this be?!
Just 2 weeks ago I downed an extra-large plate of whole wheat pasta, ground turkey, and garlic bread, then proceeded to make Jake take me to the Cracker Barrel for a full plate of buttermilk pancakes for desert. Now that’s a preggo-meal to be proud of. But ever since then I’ve been polishing off only about ¾ of my dinner and calling it quits. I simply can’t fit any more in there. This kid is just starting to take up too much dang room. Well things are gonna have to change for just this one more day kiddo. Scooch over my little Flinglet and make some room… MAMA’S HUNGRY.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!
