Some Things Never Change

1. I still love mashed potatoes.  In fact, I just had some at 9:30 this morning.  Hey, the nurse said whatever I can choke down, I can eat.  Mashed potatoes always sound good, even for breakfast.
2. I still laugh at pirate jokes.  Q: What did the pirate say to the newborn?  A: Aaaarrrrgh.  (Is that funny?  Yes.  Anything with the word Aaaarrrggh in it is funny.)
3. That’s all I can think of.

I did think of another change in my life – and that’s the Girls.  Helloooo, Girls.  Why, you’ve never rubbed up against my inner arms before, that’s quite a strange sensation!  I can no longer hold one of you in just one hand.  Very soon now, if things continue in this fashion, my cups will runneth over.  At last!  Something to delight in!  Of course, everything else is keeping pace with you – cheeks (of both the face and the bum), thighs, upper arms, belly.  But I will take my delight where I can.

So, I have decided to luxuriate in my new upholstery.  Seriously, once I get some clothes that fit more comfortably, I think I’m going to be ok with being heavy for a little while.  I’ve been taking pretty good care of my body for many years now.  Jogging, hiking, yoga, weightlifting – I enjoy it all to differing degrees.  I do it so I can have a healthy heart, and feel strong and capable, and be more energetic.  When those very noble motivations begin to flag, the vanity of staying a size 12 or less and keeping the cellulite relegated to the very upper thighs usually kicks in and keeps me moving.  But right now – my body isn’t mine.  My whole job, besides my work job, is to create a hospitable home for a wee one, and eventually coordinate my various body parts to eject him (oh dear.  more on labor & delivery anxiety later, right now my nauseous stomach can’t take it).  Once I’m out of the first trimester woods, I’ll begin walking regularly, I think, just to get the kinks out of my back and neck, and to escape work for a while.  But I’m really quite sick and tired right now, and it seems just foolishness to ignore those feelings and try to force my body to perform beyond its capabilities.  That stubborn soldiering on through the face of pain and exhaustion is the hallmark of an athlete, I know, and I’ve been pushing myself through inertia, laziness, exhaustion, and pain for years to do that one more mile uphill, knowing that pain now means clean arteries later.  Right now, though, more than ever, I feel like I need to listen to my body when it tells me to slow down, and do it.  I’ve become a lot more forgiving of my own lethargy.  It’s ok, I say – I’m cooking a person.  This little person, if all the books are correct, is sucking the calcium from my bones and teeth – the protein and oxygen from my blood and muscles – the calories from my dinner – basically grabbing fistfuls of whatever important nutrients I have stored in any part of my body and gobbling them up for himself.  So I’m going to cut my poor bones and teeth and muscles and heart a break, and tell them that their job right now is to offer this bounty to the imp, and not to stay toned and sexy for me.  There’s only so much that they can do, right?

Besides, it’s coming in fall and winter.  I can dive under the cover of sweaters and long pants (erg, the very thought makes me perspire.  Maybe not . . .).  No matter what, I won’t be called to wear a swimsuit any time soon.  And that is F I N E fine with me.

PS I succumbed to the temptation that I have felt every day for 6 weeks, and took a sick day today.  I called in and said it was Mama’s day, and Mama is staying home and napping and reading and throwing up in the comfort of her own home.  It’s been wonderful thus far.  And now it’s time for another nap.