So this past Friday, at exactly 38 weeks to the day, I accomplished something quite impressive. This would also be a good time to mention that for the past few (hell, many) months, it's been very difficult for me to lift my legs to put my socks and pants on.
I got locked out of the house. That's not the accomplishment part, that's the dilemma part. I had a contractor working at my house and, on Friday, when he finished up early, he locked the front door. Which was very thoughtful and responsible. Only he locked the lock we don't use because we don't even have a key for it. So when I came home Friday, completely exhausted with my nasty swollen feet, I couldn't get in my house to my glorious couch that was just shouting my name. I could hear it through my front door along with my crying greyhounds who couldn't figure out why their mommy wouldn't just get in the house already.
I pondered the predicament. It's an old house with a wide variety of old windows, but we are very good about locking the ones on the first floor that we open regularly. Hmmm....I decided to explore. I paused at the first window that we can never manage to get to click all the way shut. After some moving and shaking, I determined that this screen was not a screen that goes up or comes out. Is that even possible? Whatever, it wasn't budging. I moved on.
I came upon my back steps and scoped out the scene. We never use the kitchen windows because they don't stay up on their own. Maybe some of them don't click all the way shut and I just don't remember. I placed my palm against the first one and attempted to slide it up. It practically fell in the kitchen! Christ on a bike! That's not very secure. Note to self: invest in new windows or Sloman Shield immediately.
So I slide up the window which I have to hold up so it doesn't fall back down, lean into to move my kitchen table out of the way, greyhounds move into the now open space to give me some love and then I realize that the bottom of the window is at the top of my hips. Hmmm.....visions of my daily ritual of trying to put my pants on dance through my head. This could be ugly.
It took me about five minutes to find the energy to attempt the task and then three tries to get my leg in the window. It was pathetic. I move in slow motion. It must have been like a sloth trying to get up there the whole ordeal took so long. Once I got a leg in, I was eventually (and slowly) able to heave me and my 34 extra pounds in the window all while not letting the window crush my head or a limb. I'm pretty sure this moment will be recorded in my personal history as one of my sexiest moments ever.