Category Archives: Pregnant Rants

Photo Extravaganza: {{Awkward Pregnancy Photo Album}}

As you all know, no matter what sport I partake in or adventure upon which I embark, it is my primary goal to look as awesome as possible.  Though my ensembles have shifted from black spandex to exclusively horizontally-striped pastels, I am happy to say that I still got it.  And by “it” I mean lots of chins.  And extra biceps.  Biceps are the things that hang off your arms and flap around in a strong breeze, right?

Don’t just take my word for it.  Eric and I decided that we needed to capture some of this magic.  I’ve worked too hard on this body to not make you all look at it.

Ok, I’ve babied you enough.  LET’S GET WEIRD!


Well I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.  I’m gonna go find some ice cream now.

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Advanced Exercises: Not for Noobs

Time has flown. I have been impregnated for 32 weeks at this point. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.

I was sitting on my couch last night in a husband-induced rage (actually hormone induced but no one wants to hear about that shit) and I realized I was out of breath. Significantly so! Guys. I have found the most amazing and accessible exercises thanks to my current physical condition. How can I possibly keep these to myself?

SITTING ON THE COUCH. I’m sure you have one! This is something ANYONE can do! A quick way to get started is to really plop down on it. The plopping motion will likely land you in an awkward position that you will have to sort of wriggle out of. Enjoy the thunderous heart beating that ensues.

TYING YOUR SHOES. I have minimized this from 4 reps per day to 2, just because its important to have recovery time and not overdo it. This exercise can be completed sitting down or standing up. Standing up involves an 83% chance of falling, so make sure to fall to the side so you don’t pop your baby. Getting up from this fall always gives me a good arm pump and gets my heart going. I can feel each oblique straining and popping in the most satisfying of ways. If opting for the sitting option, one will notice that reaching around your own body to get to a foot will compress your lungs and enhance the workout. Expect an impressive amount of sweat.

DOING THE DISHES. Usually I eat and muss the dishes and Eric washes and dries them. It’s a great partnership we got goin’ on- it really plays to our individual strengths. This weekend, however, I thought I would mix it up and try out some washing. Sore neck, sore back, sore feet! This is a full body exercise! An unexpected benefit is that if you are wearing absorbent shirts, your belly will sop up all the sponge splash as you work.

RIDING THE 81. I realize this means you have to actually RIDE the 81, and Cleveland’s bus system is not for the weak. Depending on the time of day, you’re either going to be witness to a drug deal or become a neck pillow for a passed-out meth head. You might even get your mouthy self punched by the driver. (Go ahead and YouTube that shizz.) Why do I ride the bus? Because the only thing the 81 is missing is a crazy pregnant lady. Who am I to turn down a quota? Anyway, the drivers are trained to keep the passengers fit by zooming around corners, hopping curbs and running into cop cars. These actions will cause equal and opposite reactions within the stabilizer muscles of the meth heads’ cores. This is a physical as well as a mental exercise. Throw in some vomit dodging and you will be as fit as I am!

PRENATAL YOGA. Yes, I remember the early weeks. Those ones where you don’t really even show yet but go anyway to stare at the REALLY pregnant ladies. Well now I’m the really pregnant lady. Just rolling out my yoga mat and staging my Tums is hard, let alone all those heinous downward dogs and warrior 47 poses. I can feel my arches buckle slowly with each movement. I can’t even smell the lavender lotion our teacher will schmear onto our foreheads during the closing relaxation pose as my body odor is too strong. It takes a lot of motivation to willingly open the door to the incense cloud within, but prenatal yoga will really give you a workout you can be proud of. I suggest using the “I have to pee AGAIN” card every 7 minutes to give your heart some recovery time.

TAKING THE STAIRS. Sorry. You got the wrong blog.

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Uterus-Friendly Sport Series: {{Being Buoyant…and Losing my Mind}}

We haven’t done the “my baby is this big” thing yet.  So here ya go:


How adorable!  Look at that huge brain!  Look at those perfect flippers!  Time to get this flipper brain into the pool for some exercise!

Everyone knows swimming is great exercise.  It’s even better for individuals who have recently gained 30 pounds and need a volume of water to suspend their bulk in so as to avoid ripping and tearing their poor weakened soft bodies.

Yeah yeah swimming is great and I should do it.  So I have been.

Every now and then whilst swimming I get a cramp across my whole belly.  The first time this happened I was pretty convinced I was going into labor. Eric laughed in my face and I laughed back which made it worse. After walking back and forth in the pool a few times the cramp went away. I still don’t know what causes these but it’s fun to launch out of the water and scream while I clutch my belly. The lifeguards love me.

I am a pitiful swimmer, but that’s beside the point. The point is that NO ONE has mentioned HOW I am supposed to keep swimming when I can’t seem to stay decent in the pool.

I’m busting out of my swimming suit.  Just getting it onto my body is a challenge. Pulling it over my belly is painful. Once I get the straps in place I have to pull the boobs back into darkness beneath the chest area that was once more than adequate.

The answer is simple. I need a bigger swim suit.  Yes, this is the topic of this post.  You can’t blame me – you’re the one wasting your time reading this crap.

And no- a two piece will not do.  Please stop suggesting it!  My belly pushes everything down.  Everything.  I have to wear suspenders on my underpants.  Actually, that’s a really good idea… anyway, I don’t want to lose my thong while doing laps, sorry.

My first plan was to sweet talk my Mom into sending me an old, stretched out swimsuit. She has quite the stash- she teaches water aerobics and goes through these things like I go through Three Musketeers bars. She gladly sent me a little black and green number, but one fleshy thigh into it I suddenly remembered that I am roughly twice the size of my dear Mother. Proceeding would likely cause hemorrhage.  Thanks anyway, Mom!  You’re the best!  (But you are far too tiny to help me now.)

My cheap ass was going to have to buy a new suit. Turns out there’s approximately ONE choice available on the internets for “maternity swim suit.” To my dismay, neither Speedo nor Tyr have gotten into this niche market. They are missing out. Yes, investing in that much fabric is scary, but C’MON!

Back to the one choice. Here she is:


Right? So cool. So chic. BUT I hate the idea of dropping $62.95 for something I’m only going to wear for a few months.  Because I’m sure I’ll lose all the weight immediately after ejecting SBG from my body.  *grabs another donut*

My NEXT thought is to find an inexpensive option at Walmart or Target. A crap suit will likely be thinner and stretchier, right?

I actually did get lucky at Target. I found a suit that might as well have been labelled “must be 70 or older to wear this item.” It is gloriously, unapologetically rouched everywhere. For the boys in the house- that means there are little gathers of fabric down the seams so the remaining expanses of fabric between them don’t lay flat.  Rouching is a trick for those who don’t want every nipple of cellulite and breast to show.  It’s a blessing.  And in this case, it allows the suit to  expands neatly around my girth leaving zero boobs sticking out.  (I realize I just lost the male readers again.)

target swimsuit

This picture makes it look cute, but I assure you it’s NOT.  This hints at a waist.  Which I obvi don’t have!  No, the cute part was the price tag- $35 full price.

I tested this baby out last week and it was awesome.  The boob twisty thing tends to catch the water as I race through it at high speeds, but it has yet to be pulled down.  The amount of side boob supported is impressive as the arm holes aren’t cut athletically.  Hell, nothing about this suit is athletic.  We have a lot in common right now.

I was 15 minutes into my suit test when I realized that Eric was STILL not in the pool.  He had been right behind me as we got to the gym and my oxygen-deprived mind started to tell me that something was wrong.  We’d passed the “he’s just dropping a deuce and will be right out” timeframe.  How would I feel if I had been able to save him from a mid-deuce aneurysm had I taken action instead of choosing to keep swimming?

Good thing I’m a crazy pregnant lady who jumps to conclusions.  I leapt (climbed slowly) out of the pool and found a poor fellow to check the men’s locker room for me.  Eric wasn’t in the locker room.

Eric wasn’t in the locker room because he was in the pool.  He was swimming two lanes away from me the entire time.  *sigh*

Anyway, I look forward to more swimming and less freaking out.  My mid/upper back has been hurting like a bitch lately, mainly because it’s not yet strong enough to overcome this:

No caption needed.  This is awesome.

Yes my bangs are perfect but let’s focus on the faucet, people.

All whining aside, it’s awesome to be pregnant.  A little back pain for a belly full of cauliflower is completely worth it.

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