So for some reason, my black cat craves cotton every-so-often. Don’t ask me why… I’ve researched the possible causes, and they can range from anything from a vitamin deficiency to boredom. I’m going to chat with the veterinarian about it next month, but I’m inclined to agree with my husband’s theory – the cat is just part goat.
Well, early this morning, I heard him chowing down on something, so I quickly sat up in bed and noticed that he was trying to eat one of Nate’s Patriot’s T-shirts. (A sacrilegious act that would have not ended well for him, had he eaten more than the little hole he was able to). So, forgetting that I’m pregnant, I half-dove off the bed, leaving my hips and legs on the mattress while I held myself up with my arms (like a not-so-pretty-plank-move).
I successfully managed to swipe the t-shirt from my cat, but then I quickly realized that my belly was a lot heavier than I had remembered. I mean, I’ve never been very good at planks anyway. But try doing one with a mini-watermelon strapped to your belly, and it adds a whole new meaning to ‘gravity is not my friend’.
I lifted one arm back towards the bed, hoping to grab something in order to pull myself up. But it was absolutely no use. And my arms just did not have the strength to hold myself up that much longer. I was going down.
So after balancing there for just a moment longer (you know, just long enough to wonder to myself if this sort of predicament had happened to any other pregnant woman before) , I kicked my legs to wake up Nate from his sleep.
He was, shall I say, slightly startled at waking up to feet flailing just below his face.
“Help!” was all I could choke out. By this point, I was crying from laughing SO hard. Full-on sobbing and hiccupping… but all because I was laughing. (I’m fairly certain that I’ve heard this type of I-could-crack-a-rib laughing is good for a person’s health, so – you know – there are worse ways that I could have spent my morning).
Of course, Nate started to cry-laugh too, so he lost all of his strength. He tried to grab me around the shoulders but – maybe due to not yet wearing his glasses – instead grabbed my neck in the process. So I started to flail and try to pull away from him, because my head was about to be ripped off. Oh, yeah, and I couldn’t breathe. (This part probably wasn’t so healthy).
Finally he got a good grip on my shoulders and heaved me back onto the bed, where I lay gasping for air and cry-laughing.
Sooooo, yeah, that was my Monday morning! 🙂
You know, I keep praying for baby Brady that he grow strong and remain safe. But I think I need to start praying for his momma too! 😉