Pregnancy's third trimester is wrought with painful reminders that things that were once easy have now become a great physical challenge. A non-exhaustive list of such tasks includes:
1. Putting on pants and socks. Even more grueling? Putting on two pairs of pants and two pairs of socks to play outside in the snow.
2. Carrying a laundry basket. Where do I put it? My arms aren't long enough for the front carry and the hip carry is dangerous on the stairs when I'm already feeling off-balance.
3. Laying a one year old down in his crib. I can rest him on top of my bump as I walk toward the crib, but I'm not tall enough to lift him and the bump over the side rail to place him in the crib gently. So I end up carrying him like I'm doing the beginning moves of the "Macarena" and he sort of flops down on to his mattress, a graceful way to begin any sleep.
4. Rolling over in bed. An easy 180 degree flip has become a four-point turn with split-second decisions on whether to keep my knees straight or bent, keep the left arm behind me as a boost or in front of me as a crutch.
That last one is where my newest invention comes into play: The Wheel Belt. It would be worn around the hips and it would have wheels all the way around, like a roller blade. It would allow me to roll easily without minutes of self-doubt and the emotional struggle between uncomfortably staying put or facing the painful task of rolling over.
I pitched the idea to Eric and he raised a good point: It would be uncomfortable to sleep on the wheel belt. So, if any creative souls out there want to solve that problem, you can have half of my profit when the wheel belt becomes a reality and rescues pregnant women everywhere.
Though truly, the woes of third trimester are the most wonderful woes. They are woes that are replaced, in an instant, by newborn cries.
In the meantime, Eric is devising an invention of his own that involves the stroller, zip ties, and cross-country skis.
While we aren't busy innovating, we take photos of Clay. Here's a comparison photo of Thanksgiving Eve 2013 and Thanksgiving Eve 2014.
1. Putting on pants and socks. Even more grueling? Putting on two pairs of pants and two pairs of socks to play outside in the snow.
2. Carrying a laundry basket. Where do I put it? My arms aren't long enough for the front carry and the hip carry is dangerous on the stairs when I'm already feeling off-balance.
3. Laying a one year old down in his crib. I can rest him on top of my bump as I walk toward the crib, but I'm not tall enough to lift him and the bump over the side rail to place him in the crib gently. So I end up carrying him like I'm doing the beginning moves of the "Macarena" and he sort of flops down on to his mattress, a graceful way to begin any sleep.
4. Rolling over in bed. An easy 180 degree flip has become a four-point turn with split-second decisions on whether to keep my knees straight or bent, keep the left arm behind me as a boost or in front of me as a crutch.
That last one is where my newest invention comes into play: The Wheel Belt. It would be worn around the hips and it would have wheels all the way around, like a roller blade. It would allow me to roll easily without minutes of self-doubt and the emotional struggle between uncomfortably staying put or facing the painful task of rolling over.
I pitched the idea to Eric and he raised a good point: It would be uncomfortable to sleep on the wheel belt. So, if any creative souls out there want to solve that problem, you can have half of my profit when the wheel belt becomes a reality and rescues pregnant women everywhere.
Though truly, the woes of third trimester are the most wonderful woes. They are woes that are replaced, in an instant, by newborn cries.
In the meantime, Eric is devising an invention of his own that involves the stroller, zip ties, and cross-country skis.
While we aren't busy innovating, we take photos of Clay. Here's a comparison photo of Thanksgiving Eve 2013 and Thanksgiving Eve 2014.
November 10, 2014: Clay didn't enjoy playing in the first snow of the season. He tried to get into it, then just stood in the garage, looked out at the snow and whined. It was as if he were thinking, "What happened to my favorite friend, Outside?"