It seems every time my mother calls our house phone, I either have just finished climbing the stairs from the living room to our bedroom or I have to make a mad dash from the kitchen to where the phone is charging in the living room. In either case, I answer the telephone in this breathy—I just finished a three-hour long kickboxing class—kind of voice. From time to time—ok, maybe all the time—hubby laughs at me because I get winded quite easily. He often asks me after walking from the car to _______________ (fill in the blank with any and every destination possible), "Are you really out of breath?" In fact, when I finally mustered up the strength to do my Christmas shopping (three days before Christmas), I took full advantage of every single lounge chair located in the Menlo Park Mall. They were like rest stops for my weary traveling body.
All that is to say is that I am feeling the effects of a growing uterus, cramped lungs, and a baby girl that likes to press against my already cramped lungs. Imagine the surprise, excitement, and tinge of jealousy that I felt when another mother-to-be sent me the link to this video...
Maybe I'll dance like this...in my second pregnancy. For now, I'm scoping out the nearest lounge chair in sight!
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