I decided that since I am past my first trimester and I no longer have debilitating bouts of nausea, that it was high time I got my
growing butt cute pregnant booty in the pool. After work last week, I made the trek down to the club, and said a little prayer that my swim suit would still fit. I left my oldest and most stretched out suit in my locker at the club and really hoped that I had not grown too big to fit into it again. Thankfully, I was able to wear the suit without ripping a hole in it, but I did feel like a packed sausage. There’s little hope that I will be able to fit into that suit a couple of weeks from now because when I put it on again this morning, it felt tighter than the last time I wore it. Honestly, it might be smart to switch to a two-piece and just let it all hang out! That sounds cheaper than buying a new suit every few weeks.
I didn’t really know what to expect getting into the water. Every woman I have talked to about swimming during pregnancy said that the water is best place to be because the pregnancy weight feels like it has been lifted right off you. I soon found this to be true, and oh baby did it feel good to be in the water! I felt like an athlete again. There was little difference between Ironman Ms. R and pregnant Ms. R in the water, and to me, that feeling is priceless. I have struggled mentally with having to slow down my running and sometimes having to ride upright on my bike, but being in the water, I have little to no limitations. I think I will be swimming at least twice a week from here on out because I can get such a good (and zero bladder impact!) workout in the pool. I have to thank my sister-in-law for recommending the pool to me on multiple occasions because I really was nervous that the motion in the water was going to make me feel ill. Sometimes it just takes a little, repeated nudging to convince me something is a good idea.
Because I know you’re all dying to know about my eating habits, I'm sorry to report that I don’t have any weird or unusual cravings, but I did rediscover Flamin’ Hot Cheetos the other day at work. Oh momma, those things are delicious! I made the mistake of telling a lot of people in my office about how good they are and now there are none left in the vending machine. I need to learn to keep some things to myself. Apparently, Baby W loves spicy everything and I won’t be surprised if he/she comes out wearing a sombrero and shaking maracas. I can tell my tolerance for spice has gone up since I got pregnant, but sometimes it just seems a little bit out of control. I put Tobasco and Sriracha sauce on just about everything I eat, and oh, can I have a side of jalapenos with that? It’s a little concerning, yet comical, to Mr. Fury. The poor guy doesn’t really enjoy spicy anything himself, but he’s been a trooper when it comes to my cooking. I try to tone it down for him and add more spice after he’s taken his fill, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. I remind him that he’s just being a good daddy by putting up with my newly found obsession. Baby gets what baby wants, right?
Mr. Fury has been very busy with my dad the past few weeks putting in new windows upstairs. This is a project we started planning not long before finding out I was pregnant because the spare bedroom upstairs needed new windows in a bad way. Right after peeing on the stick and thinking, "Holy crap, there's no turning back now!" I promptly thought, "Oh #*(%, we need to order those new windows NOW!" We were not really in a rush pre-bun in the oven to buy the windows because they're so darn expensive. After consulting with my dad and shopping around, we got 10% off at Home Depot and an extra $125 off when they screwed up our order. We didn't mind making another trip into the store to get things corrected and save some more money so thanks Home Depot! Anyway, Mr. Fury and my dad just put in the last window and now we can go pick out new carpet so that can be installed soon too. Sheesh, this kid is already costing us a lot of money, and I hear it only gets worse!