What I'm about to announce here on my blog will probably incense quite a few people. Before I say it, I want everyone to know I'm not trying to stoke the fire on this issue. I'm well aware that after I say this, some people will judge me and make assumptions about the way I live my life. From this point onward they will liken me to a pansy (A pansy, by the way, is an extremely hearty flower that can survive the winter. So I'm not sure what genius started using pansy to mean weak, but he obviously wasn't well read in botany.) But here is my hot button statement of the day: it's really cold outside.
Ouch, I can hear the moans and groans of my loved ones up north from here in the 18 degree south. And I distinctly heard my mom just utter, "Oh come on! I'm sitting here surrounded by 2 feet of snow and she's complaining it's cold out! Pshaw!" For the record, I've never heard my mother say "pshaw" but I create the dialog here in blogland.
In other news, I'm trying to eat more sensibly lately. I fell into a bit of scale shock after my last doctor visit (conveniently scheduled right after the holidays) and have been motivated to eat more fresh vegetables and to exercise. Mostly, it's going well, but I'm having a hard time breaking my nightly dessert habit. You see, when I first became pregnant, I had to break several bad habits overnight to protect the baby (smoking, drinking, crack, etc). The easiest way to do this was to replace all of those bad behaviors with eating brownies and ice cream. But I'm pretty serious about not wanting to pack on much more weight for the next 11 weeks. It is a hard struggle with myself though. Last night the internal dialog in my head went something like this:
Belly: "Do we have anything sweet in the house? Hmm, there are those oreo truffle things you made at Christmas, cereal, cinnamon bread, candied pecans. Anything sound good?"
Brain: "Shut it! You just had dinner. You're not even hungry. There are no hunger pangs running through you."
Belly: "Maybe I could just have some chocolate milk then? That's not even a solid! And I bet it would hydrate us."
Brain: "Here have some water then Miss I'm-suddenly-super-concerned-about-the-hydration-needs-of-my-body."
*takes a swig of water
Belly: "Um, your baby needs calcium. I can hear him from here, he's crying for chocolate milk."
Brain: "Belly! Don't you dare bring the baby into this! That's a low blow! He's just a baby! And I will not be manipulated into giving you sweets!"
After about an hour of listening to these thoughts run through my head, I finally relented and gave the belly a piece of cinnamon raisin bread---but that's it! I can't tell you how tiring it is to be me and have to listen to these crazy organs all the time. Seriously, it's like there are multiple children living inside me with the way they all behave.