This is almost a sequel to the entry below but instead takes
place in Fort Meyers, FL.
It’s been a truly horrendous winter. I can never acclimate
to the bitter cold and it was exacerbated this year by having to dress my bump,
which appeared quite eagerly in month two. Spring was more of a winter
hangover, so tights were essential.
Panty hose, I have some news for you: there’s no controlling this top.
She does what she wants, when she wants. Summer clothes are much easier for
growing bellies and I now reside, quite happily, in a rainbow of maxi dresses.
And by rainbow, I mean black. C’mon, I still live in New York-ish. See the below post.
But now we’re in sunny Florida, the land of D- hair. On it’s
best day, my hair is a generous B+. My sister wakes up with A+ hair, forget
when she attempts to style it. We used to joke that she’s the pretty one and
I’m the smart one but she was just admitted to Columbia University so there’s
that. Now I’m the pregnant one.
Still, I’m happy to trade my frizzy, limp locks for temperatures
above 60 and miles of beaches. Jonathan and I took the first of two babymoons
to stay on the grounds of the most glorious beach and golf club. There are
spas, tennis courts, boats, pools, men in Hawaiian shirts offering poolside bar
service, a Super Target within a mile… Life is good.
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| Super Target not pictured |
We decided to work out one morning before hitting our
favorite infinity pool (see above). Working out these days for me is a bit funny. I’m
definitely the girl at the gym people use as motivation. Never mind that I
look incredibly ridiculous in my maternity workout attire and even my bump is
protesting this decision. I can feel the self-lashing internal monologues as they spy me huffing on the elliptical...
“What is wrong with you, you lazy ass?
If she can do this, I am turning up
my resistance 5 levels and staying on this bike/treadmill/other torture device
for 30 more minutes.” Still, I feel a little proud of myself that I can do
light cardio for 30 minutes and lift my green weights for 5.
 |
| Me huffing. PS-these shorts don't even fit anymore,. |
This day I was caught off-guard in the midst of my post-workout
praise session (which consists of me patting myself on the back and reminding
myself muscle memory will take me back to my old wardrobe post-baby if I keep
this up) when a man in his late sixties approached me.
Jaimie, you are doing
such a great jo…
Guy: How far along are you?
Me: Seven months.
Guy: It’s a boy, right?
Me: Um, no. She’s a she.
Guy: Wow, really? I was checking you out as you walked past
me and it seems like you are carrying in your hips. You are very hippy. I didn’t
know you before but your body is consistent with the signs of a boy.
Me: That’s odd. I’m typically told by complete strangers
that I’m all belly, indicating a female.
Guy: Well, I could be wrong. My wife carried… (Jaimie tunes
out man)
Dude. DUDE. Allow me to list the crimes you committed in
order.
Number one: don’t tell a pregnant woman she is anything but
perfect and a hero.
Number two: don’t “check out” someone and then admit you
checked them out…to their face.
Number three: I am seven months pregnant and in a gym. I
could be one million other places, including the ice cream shop, the bakery,
Willy Wonka’s house… All I should hear from you is silence. At the most I will
accept an affirming smile.
Gross. Two more months. Still.
LOL, "you are very hippy." Who says that! Those Floridians! Anyway, you don't need to exercise to get any baby weight off. You just breastfeed. That plus your new life routine will shed it all pretty quickly. I mean, exercise is great and all. Let me know how it goes when you try to fit it in ;-)
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