He Totally Laughed At Me!

I've worked really hard during my pregnancy not to let pregnancy become my crutch. I wanted to continue to still do everything on my own as much as possible. I know I should be taking advantage of a child growing in my belly to transform Steve into my slave but for some odd reason I decided against it.

I mean some simple tasks have become extremely hard. Like, trying to reach the top shelf of our cabinets on my tip toes. I used to be able to do this... now my belly gets in the way and I can no longer reach. So I make a tough decision. Do I become needy and ask Steve in from the other room or do I risk grabbing our dining room chair, crawl on up, and pray to the good Lord that it doesn't buckle underneath all this weight.

Usually a game time decision :)

Or another task is tying my own shoes. Do I slip them on... hold up one leg... wait for Steve to catch my drift and tie them or do I suck in a huge breath of oxygen, move the belly to one side, slump over, feel the extreme pressure I'm creating on my baby, hold my breath and tie my shoe.

The hard decisions one has to endure!

It's not easy.

Well yesterday I decided to keep up with our Spring activities. So I grabbed our Green Lawn-Boy push mower out of the garage for the first time. Again, I had to reach up real high to try and get our gas tank down. That was a struggle! But I conquered that tank. One could say it became my (naughty word) But we don't say that word so I just conquered it.

Then I started in the front lawn, just a nice easy push mow on a splendid not too hot sunny day. Well wouldn't you know before long I was shedding the layers. Mowing is way harder than it used to be! I was huffin' and puffin' like a just ran 10 miles. (ps I don't think I've ever ran 10 miles... or even over 4.) But I finished with our not so huge front yard and moved to the back.

Thank goodness more shade!

So I start to make my pass around the edge. I notice my next door neighbor is also mowing his backyard but is almost complete. He only has a few more passes left. So as I'm drawing closer to him I look up about to wave and I see him, head down, snickering, seriously giggling to himself.

That man was laughing at me!

But then I can't blame him. There was a winded, sweaty, 39 week old, huge pregnant lady with her pants rolled up and in a tank top on a day that required long sleeves and pants.

So I continued on laughing at myself. Well laughing and huffing and puffing.

Then I pondered to myself. Does my other next door neighbor with the really big man belly have to go through this all the time?