I think I had my first surge of psycho pregnancy hormones this morning. My DH is always coming up with stupid nicknames for me--after fifteen years I'm pretty used to being called monkeysnarfer or "cheese platter" or whatever... well, this morning he came into the office where I was working and said, "Hey, pork barrel."
The thing is, he works out with a trainer twice a week and I used to work out once a week (just to support him, because he wouldn't work out in the beginning unless I did), and now he is all over me, saying I should be working out. Well, I plan to, but I am going to find a female to work with. Our male trainer is a good friend but I do not plan to be like, "That makes my pelvis hurt" to a man. And I'm going to start prenatal yoga when I hit 10-12 weeks and he KNOWS this.
I still ride the recumbent bike 4-5 times a week, I'm just taking it easier with weights and things since I'm so early on. And I have always had a little poochy belly, even with my slender build, and the other day, DH commented that I already looked pregnant and should be working out. And when I tell him I'm going to, he's like, "No, you should be working out
now." He is not the type to let something go. When he's right, he's right, and he will keep telling you he's right until you have a revelation and swear to the gods in heaven that he is right.
And being called pork barrel just about sent me over the edge!
So I called him bacon belly, which he said was mean.
And then I got very, very quiet and I think it scared him.
Ugh! Men! So clueless!
And how is everyone else this delightful morning?