Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Attention Well-Intentioned Men of America

Total steps yesterday:  13,819
Exercise plans for today:  3 mile run

I've chosen to illustrate the difficult concepts discussed in this post with animal GIFs, in the hope that it might help get the point across.

Pregnancy is not a disease.  I am not an invalid.  I'm growing a child, which women have done for millenia, and most of these women had no choice but to continue working / growing food / raising other kids / generally being bad-ass for the 9 months of their pregnancy.  If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would keep being active and not just lounge around all day, because that would be boring.  I would not be this cat:

Though I totes want this cat.
I like being active and benefit a  lot from it.  One reason I like my job is because it allows me to be active and on my feet at least some of the day, rather than always stuck behind my computer.  I plan to continue doing my job as long as I can, even when I have a major bump and am moving at the pace of a polar bear:

Also called "glacier pace"
Sometimes in my job I have to lift boxes.  These boxes only weigh about 10 pounds, or about 5 pounds per hand. The weights I use in strength training weigh at least twice that.  My baby is going to weigh close to that amount.  Yet for some reason, some of the men that I work with don't want me to lift or move boxes anymore.  Not only is this insulting, but it makes me angry and I will chase you away from helping with what is my job:

Aggressive Tortoise
Slow moving mommas are still moving mommas
This is especially frustrating because at this point in my pregnancy, there is nothing that I can't do.  But I realize I have five more months to go, and according to those fruit to baby comparisons Lil W is going to go from the size of a green pepper to the size of a pumpkin.  And trust me, when Lil W gets to be the size of a pumpkin, there's a good chance I will need help.  We all need help sometimes.  But you know what?  I am an adult.  If I need help with something, I will ask:

Gimme a Hand With This
I promise, this request for help won't be subtle
I don't want my coworkers to spend the next five months getting annoyed that they "have to help" and take on more before it's necessary.  We will all be happier if you just let me do my job and don't try to coddle me like a baby.  I love babies, clearly, but I do not want to be one. 

This is also frustrating because it irks my inner feminist - it's only men who try to interfere in my work and think that they have to protect me and my fetus from the dangers of lifting a 10 pound box.  Combine this with pregnancy hormones and it makes me stabby:

You wouldn't like me when I'm stabby.
I know that this comes from the best of intentions, and that no one is consciously being condescending.  But for pregnant women everywhere, please, give us some credit.  We're still human.  We're still the same capable people we were before pregnancy.  My husband is the one man who has anything even resembling responsibility to take care of me during pregnancy, and he doesn't even coddle me this much (because he's seen my angry lioness face and knows not to mess with that).  Right  now, I can still probably run longer than you.  I might be able to lift heavier than you.  At this point in my pregnancy, you can pretty much assume I can everything this dog can do and more:

dog climbing fence
Okay, maybe not everything this dog can do
 So stop making assumptions and just back off a little bit.  I got this:

cat pushes dog away while eating
This GIF also shows how I feel when James tries to share food with me lately.

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