There was a time where I was pregnant and gained all this absolutely beautiful weight. Well, it was more like I gained a small whale. I guess eating those whole cakes, even though some had fruit, wasn’t the best choice I could’ve made.
But at the time, that was all I wanted…whole damn cakes. Fruit cakes, cheesecakes, chocolate cakes, carrot cakes, W-H-O-L-E cakes. My daughter was incredibly healthy and happy, and for me, well my body paid the ultimate price.
I’ve thus named my stomach, the most loving term of endearment, grandpa.
As much as I may love grandpa, grandpa needs to pack his bags and go.
This morning was just like any other typical day in my house. Woke up at 6 am to my oldest screaming and crying because his “teammates” destroyed his house in Minecraft once again. Rolling over, staring at my ceiling, fuming death, I yelled at him to go back to sleep.
Two hours later, I’m once again woken by the death metal serenades by my toddler. I sit up quickly, making evil eye mom face. It didn’t phase her, she just giggled, raising her arms upward to let me know it’s time to change death bowels.
Tossing my legs over the bed, I just shake my head, because it’s too early for both kids to be balls of chipper…and I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet. I should have known this was the precursor to my mid-morning’s events when I went to pick my little one up and I smelled her from across my room.
Staring out my window, I began to pray to Jesus for the strength to change the poop I was struggling to change. Somehow I made it through, by the grace of Grayskull, I made it through. Gagging and dry heaving along the way, while mini me, well, she’s just giggling and trying to put her fingers in her nasty poop.
Finally, success. She’s changed and happy, my oldest, he’s just in his his room full fetal over some Minecraft failure. I didn’t dare peek in either, because that would have just made the situation even worse. So me and mini me walked downstairs and completely ignored the face full of tears escapades going on.
I sit her down on her little bow-legged self and walk into the kitchen to try and figure out if she was hungry. Well, she wasn’t, so I took it upon myself to turn on the television and get into the first of hopefully many, workouts to remove grandpa.
Little miss vivacious is spinning in circles, while I’m over on the couch trying to find a workout that would suit my out of shape self. And due to my incredibly impulsive self, to include, the mentality of “go big or go home”, I decide that Insanity is the best pick to start off with.
I could not have made a worse decision at this point in my morning, let alone, my life.
Shaun T comes booming across the television speakers, mini-me stops dead in her tracks, enamored by the large man on the screen. Grabbing my hips, sighing, what did I get myself into?
Without hesitation he gets right into the warm up. I’m rolling my neck in circles, already breathing heavy. Mini me is spinning in circles, slowly losing all bodily control, while screaming the song of her people.
For some reason, I decided that warming up was overrated and that I, of all people, didn’t need to do such prehistoric movements. As I write this story, I’m still regretting that dumb decision. Especially since I still can’t feel my left butt cheek.
Shaun T’s voice became faster, more upbeat, more intense. I paused to take a long stare at the TV and what was coming next.
Suddenly legs started flying, mid-sections crunching, and butt’s tightening.
My daughter is next to me, her little feet smacking against the laminate flooring. My body releasing immense amounts of liquid, pooling at the bottom of my feet.
Shaun T screaming, “30 more seconds!”
“30 more seconds of what?” I scream back angrily.
The sweat puddle becoming more and more pronounced, my daughter smacking and spreading it around.
More legs and arms flying, more Shaun T screaming, my breath leaving my body at a rapid pace. Struggling to find the rhythm, my legs flopping like a fish out water, my arms an elephants trunk.
Completely and utterly uncontrolled.
My daughter next to me clapping her little hands together in rhythm to Shaun T’s screams. Stopping only when he walks over to a participant to point out what’s working and what isn’t. I’m gasping for each and every breath.
I look at the clock, we’re only ten minutes into the actual workout.
Who thought this workout was a good idea? What is wrong with them? Oh my God, I’m dying! I can’t feel my legs. Why is my butt numb? Wait, why is my butt numb? Where did my butt go? Oh my God! I lost my butt!
My leg goes to kick one last flurry when the ground disappeared underneath me. Suddenly my eyes meet the ceiling, the floor softening the blow.
My daughter waddles over to me, screaming no, no, no while patting my head. Shaun T finally allowing a 30 second break from the hell he was causing.
I continued to lay on the floor, struggling for each and every breath, while trying to find where my butt ran off too. My daughter spinning in small circles around me. I slowly gather myself and rise to my feet for round two of Shaun T’s hell.
Okay, I got this. I can finish this 30 minute workout. I can do it! Granpa needs to find a new home!
At this point my butt is so numb that squats aren’t even phasing me. Well, at least I thought they weren’t phasing me. My daughter next to me, squatting and screaming away. Suddenly my lower body freezes into place, my stomach turning, Shaun T screaming at me to keep it going.
I can’t keep it together. I can’t even move my body right now. You’re a robot!
I go to push that last squat out, when a foul and thick liquid comes dribbling out of my mouth unwillingly. My daughter frozen in disgust. My hands attempting to catch the remaining. Shaun T still hype on the television.
Rapidly I go to sprint to the bathroom to expunge the remaining waterfall flowing from my mouth. My feet have no traction and I fall flat on my face, waterfall still flowing from my mouth. My daughter cackling away, my oldest bolting down the stairs with a towel.
I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t get up.
I just laid there, levees destroyed, vomit spewing from my mouth exorcist style.
My son shoving the bath towel in my mouth frantically. My daughter playing in the grossness that flew from my body. I’m just laying there in pure confusion and disgust at what just happened to my body.
Finally, the waterfall dried up, and I rolled over. My hair soaked and full of this morning’s empty stomach. My daughter trying to put it back where it all came. My son asking if he needed to call an ambulance.
I struggled to sit up due to constantly slipping and sliding and my body being numb. I gather myself and look around. My living room looked like a murder of intestine had occurred.
I grabbed my daughter and grudgingly walked upstairs to the bathroom. My son screaming from downstairs what he’s supposed to do with the mess. I couldn’t even find the strength to yell back at him. Hell, I barely had the strength to carry little miss gross up the stairs with me.
I peel the clothes of chunky and myself, struggling every little inch. The showering whispering sweet nothings to my disgusting self.
We hop in the shower, listening to my oldest through the vent, angry he’s stuck cleaning up the mess.
And I quickly decided to divorce Shaun T.
Well, at least for now.