The Worst of all SINS!



I’ve gone and done a preggo-workout video. What the F*** was I thinking! Holy shit! (I enjoy that I chose to blot out the swearing above, yet just went with the ‘shit’ because I felt the need to throw caution to the wind and express myself.)

There’s me, sat on my own-some, all 8 months pregnant, wondering what to do with myself, so I go and do the most stupidest thing ever and actually THINK. Dangerous!

This is why I should never be left to my own devices. I end up doing all sorts and it all just ends in aching or tears. Sometimes laughter, if I’m being honest and usually at the expense of others. But today the joke was, none other than the glamour puss herself…MOI! I don’t mind it really. I always think the greatest people are the ones that can manage to take the piss out of themselves without throwing up the ‘insecurity’ card. The people that don’t take themselves too seriously are usually a good bunch. I will say that there is an amount of seriousness that needs to be taken, as nothing that’s all ‘joke’ is ever fun. We’re not ‘pull ya pants down’ clowns here. It’s business. Yet something that is all frowny serious-face and no fun at the cost of themselves…either has ‘mummy didn’t love me’ issues, or is just plain old insecure. I mean, it’s okay, we all get like that. Plus, it’s nothing that a wine can’t fix. I feel as though I need 22 gallons of wine after than workout.

So yeah…long story short. Keiran left me downstairs to think for a while, as he went upstairs to work. I did the normal things like enjoy a bit of reality tv. (I was actually spoilt for choice this morning. ‘Real Housewives.., Wipe Swap, Millionaire Matchmaker or Undercover Boss USA!’ It was like all my non-working, daytime telly, 8 month pregnant dreams had come true all at once. AND I had assorted toffees from Thorntons.

Made lunch. Had a few more honey and lemons. Almost accidentally killed Keiran with my overly chilli peppered lunch. But he got over it. He’s now fine. I’m a rubbish cook and I always do something accidentally dodgy that ruins the entire meal. I just can’t help it. was death my chilli peppers. He looked at me, with tears in his eyes and simply said, ‘You did that on purpose.’ Lol. I’m ever so good at being a wife…obviously. If I was a good person, he would never have thought that I would ever dream of doing such a thing. 🙂 The fact that it actually ran through his brain that I could really be trying to poison him makes me giggle. (That’s sick in itself.)

Okay, sat on my own. Bored. Feeling like I have zero attention. I decided i’m going to keep fit. WHAT!

I’m quite fit anyway, to say all I did before was drink wine and do nothing active. But i’m not a gym goer. I hate it. It’s not something I adore.

I go upstairs, put on the cutest little gym outfit ever. It was cute little LA booty shorts and tank top with diamantes and over the knee socks. I grabbed Ruby’s portable DVD player, launched ‘Cinderella’ out of it and plonked in  ‘What to expect, When you’re expecting…..THE WORKOUT.’ I mean, what the fuck is WRONG with me.

Before you know it, it was on and I was in my living rooms, on the rug, under the chandelier lunging to Lord knows what and God knows who!?! There was the boring chatty bit before, they they do to introduce themselves and tell you what is about to happen. I don’t like that bit. You loose me if you chat for too long. Luckily, I forwarded the important safety when pregnant speech and just got on with the cardio.

The first was ‘Barefoot and Pregnant.’ I actually enjoyed it and thundered through it like a champion. I wasn’t too tired. I worked hard. I felt it and well I could be so cocky as to say, it was a BREEZE. So, taking no notice of the safety notes..i did the next cardio chunk, ‘Baby Bump Boot Camp.’

I was still fine, but feeling it a bit more now. I was getting sweaty and well when you have a weave it gets really alarming. I still kept up and bent and stretched away to the sound of happy preggo music.

Okay, I don’t know what happened..but I then got really really exhausted and even though I was keeping up…well trying to…it got really difficult out of nowhere and I was on my last legs, but air pumping and body twisting. WTF! It came out of nowhere and got me. I was shattered but weirdly liek it had hypnotized me couldn’t stop doing the moves. Luckily, my bladder decided not to function properly and I needed a wee. So as I quit my bum rolling, I tottered upstairs, out of breath to do a wee…trumping along the way, 🙂 #likefatherlikedaughter

I don’t know what hit me, but it certainly ended in bum rolls. Nothing decent EVER ends in bum rolls. Don’t be fooled. Even bum rolls in strip clubs aren’t good for you boys, as when you glance in your wallet, 4 seconds afterward, you seem to find you’ve spent  £100 on them. 🙂

On route to my wee, what do I find. No not diamonds. I’m obviousl ynot that lucky. I FIND my sneeky little husband wedged on the staircase trying to spy on me, whilst I work out. Not EVEN to PERV on me. He just couldn’t even believe that I would be working out ever, let alone when 8 months pregnant, so came to have a look…and a laugh. The swine!

I shooed him away with a ‘I need a wee…what are you doing?’ He giggled and got HIMSELF a water. Gee thanks darling! Don’t get your over groin stretched pregnant wife a bit of water after she’s bump boot camped to dance music and cheery American pregnant women.

I get back down,t he DVD’s still running. I was hoping to miss a large chunk of it, so i thought i’d leave it on. Ofcourse it’s the never ending work out and goes on and on for ages and ages. I eventually had to find the remote control to swtich it to the yoga part simply for a rest. The next cardio bit was Bollywood dancing. FUCK THAT! I skipped it and had a sit down and a pat down in the mirror.

Then the ultimate force of regret came once I got back into it. Today, I found out that PREGGO-YOGA is NOT  A REST. Holy MOLY. I nearly died. I bent and cat stretched and curled and elongated every inch of me…on a rug…in my shorts…didn’t wear knickers and almost pulled each muscle in my entire body in utter pain. LOL. It was so painful that I actually stopped to piss myself laughing. No-one else was in the room but me and I was sat, like a naked Twisted game, pregnant…belly laughing at how ridiculously unfit I felt. The woman on the video kept telling me that she was ’14 weeks pregnant.’ Great! I’m 33 weeks. This ain’t so fun for me. 🙂

Then she shut me up by rolling in the 39 week pregnant lady who could bizarrely balance on her arms and open her legs wide open, whilst stretching all over them ans STILL SMILING. I did it all because well fuck it, you have to once you start it.

But then once I began two of the other videos, I was in so much pain that I half hearted them all. It was far too difficult for a doll of my sort. I mean to say I used to be a dancer.. I sure as hell couldn’t touch my toes. Saying that…i can’t really even see my toes right now. I did good and because I felt knackered, stretched and burnt out.

I hit the ‘stop’ button. I didn’t want to *pause* it…I just wanted it ALL TO END. Hahaha.

Before you know it, that DVD was packed straight back up in the box and replaced with ‘Cinderella.’ Ah bliss.

Every inch of me now KILLS. I can’t even walk and well I still can’t talk. I’ve utterly lost my voice now.

I’ve just had 3 handfuls of toffee, laid on the bed, stripped down naked into a black stain dressing gown and asked for sympathy from the husband…who smiled, gave me fake sympathy and carried on typing. UGH! I’m getting no love from him today. I want to be adored.

Now, i’m gonna chill and have a shower, before more telly watching.

The lesson of the day, don’t leave me to think, alone and for any amount of seconds. It ends badly…and when I say badly I mean worse than with bum rolls. I was never a fan of yoga when fit and non pregnant, let alone with a human in my belly, due next month. It’s just rude to groin stretch to music, on a rug. Mind, Body, Spirit my arse. A nap and a wiggle would’ve sufficed.

I don’t think my body wants to get pushed to it’s limits….it just wants to be glamourous. Be if pregnant or princess.

But at least I can say I did it now…If you’re a preggo and you haven’t…you should, it’s painfully hilarious.







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