That's right, I'm jealous. Not of some insanely gorgeous woman, not of some fantastically rich celebrity, but I'm jealous of my own husband and here's why...
So, I'm pregnant! Yeah! After our miscarriage in May, I am happy to report that I about 14 weeks and things are looking good, despite some early bumps in the road. I'm super excited.
You know what's great about being pregnant? Eating! I am super lucky to not really get sick while I'm pregnant and truth be told I use being pregnant as a sort of free pass to eat without guilt. Oh I know you're not supposed to, but really, this is my last kid and I'm going out with a bang.
When I was pregnant with Collin, my husband was super supportive of my need to eat. He gained about 20 pounds while I put on my 50 and all was well with the world. Here's a shot of myself dangerously close to morbid obesity if I wasn't carrying a child:
But this time???!! Oh no, he's on a get in shape kick. He's eating better, he's exercising multiple times a week and I have to say I'm jealous, even a bit perturbed!
I mean really, can't he wait another six months and then we can both be on the get in shape bandwagon? It is truly no fun to be gaining at least a pound a week while your husband is losing it. Sheesh!
So, while I usually love my hubby, this whole working out thing needs to take a six month hiatus. Ok, I gotta go eat a piece of cake now. I've worked up an appetite typing this.
