It must be an el preggo side effect. My body temperature seems to have plummeted a good 10 degrees.

I’m not just cold. I’m downright frigid, chilled to the bone. All the damn time. The BF has been on my ass for carrying around a space heater but I’ve equally been all over him for not keeping the temperature in our house set at a steady 65 degrees. 65, People! Do you know how cold that is when you have another human in you? That’s like below zero for me.

I had a temporary moment tonight of, omg we have no heat! Because I finally realized the damn heat never has come on — it’s just been blowing out cold fan air. I immediately tried to take matters into my own hands, but let me be real — I have no business f-ing around with the heater or the ritetemp control panel.

I have no earthly idea how either work. I mean, my God, it seems to me that one should be required to attend a control panel certification class. It’s damn near impossible for me. Not damn near — it is.

I of course, in my new state of calm, panicked. And imagined every horrible scenario of needing a new furnace and had visions of me freezing over the weekend and coming down with hypothermia. Can I blame the mother in me for that reaction? Damn right I can. I’m pregnant. No one dare mess with the preg lady.

I also announced today, that because I am preg, I am on Kroger strike. I came up with that brilliant gem as I was hauling 18 pounds of holistic kitten food at Menard’s and it occurred to me, WHY the F am I carrying this shit and running all these damn errands? I AM PREGNANT. I need to be relaxing and staying calm and then thinking about calm and centered I am.

And again, no one dares disagree with me. TC wholeheartedly supported the non Krogering, and lifting of heavy items. I failed to mention that I just ordered a pregnant Kettlebell DVD. But that’s totally different from grocery stores. That’s about health and wellness.

My doctor thinks I’m utterly certifiable when I brought up doing the kettlebell routine {she did approve it though}. Apparently she doesn’t have any other mamas-t0-be that workout two hours a day. Which I find incredibly strange. I’m sure that’s because I’d probably lose it if I didn’t have my yoga and daily walks.

Speaking of walks. Today was really hard to motivate on that front. Not only was it frigid inside, but it was outside, too. I had to force myself to get outside with Murphy — with gloves on, People.

This is why routines are so critical for me. If I break routine, all hell breaks loose. I must, under all circumstances, continue on. You do know that means I have visions of birthing this baby and like five hours later doing yoga. And the next day walking Murphy for an hour. I have no idea how it will even be possible to tell me not to work out for two weeks.

I’ve had to prep myself that if I am on workout lockdown, that time will not count. Breastfeeding does. It cancels each other out.