I can no longer see my toes when I stand. As a first-time pregnant woman (or pregasaurus as I’m now known to my husband), I sport the belly with pride.
But now at 30 weeks, the honeymoon is over. As I entered my third trimester, all the symptoms associated with this notorious trimester hit me like a ton of bricks. There’s heartburn, insomnia and fatigue. There are leg cramps that have me jumping out of bed in the middle of the night. There’s the back fat….
Hold up — BACK FAT? Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve always been a slim jim, so this back fat is brand new territory. To console myself, I figure it’s there to serve its purpose – probably to offset all the weight on the front side, so I don’t tip over when I’m standing.
Anyway, with the growing waistline and onslaught of symptoms comes a lethargic feeling like I’ve never felt before. I find myself casually stepping over balls of cat fur that blow around the house like small tumbleweeds. I see food crumbs gathering on my belly and I nonchalantly brush them on to the floor. And this morning, for the first time ever since I can remember, I considered not making my bed.
Why make the bed when you’re just going to mess it up again in a few hours? My husband has always understood this logic, and yet, it has only just occurred to me. It stands to reason that you would make the bed if you were having company, or if you were showing your house to potential buyers. But when it’s just you who sees the bed – isn’t the ritual a little pointless?
As I settle onto the couch for the long haul, it is my husband who chases fur balls with the Dust Buster and sweeps crumbs from under the coffee table. He’s never been one to clean the house from top to bottom, but he’s very diligent about this sort of “spot” cleaning.
Thankfully, our latest splurge involves a housekeeper (and a godsend), so my house is not overrun with small rodents.
I hear that just before babies arrive, pregnant women are magically struck with a sudden urge to sanitize and sterilize everything in sight. I imagine the instinct will strike me, too… at some point. I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, I’m quite enjoying my newfound laziness.