#belly practice

[bd-z]

What the hell I might as week show you how things are looking. The baby is will be two this year and it's taken a lot to drop the extras belly flab. I still have more to go but at least I can do my rolls now. 

 I still need to regain control of the lower muscles. You can see where my pudge remains and under that pudge is a muscle who hates me. It just won't fucking work. But I'm getting there. 

 Bellydance = Time + Practice + Passion

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

He has me pinned, his arms hooked under my knees, his palms flat against the wall...hunched over so I don't hit my head on the ceiling. We are fully clothed and his reasoning is that he just wants to prove to me that he can and always will be able to lift me. He's been lifting me, carry me, having me play parrot on his shoulder since we met.

"She likes to be tall!" He told his mama as she chastised him for manhandling me when she was visiting, like he was saying it about a cat that likes to chill on top of the fridge. He's not wrong. But I know that about four months from now he's gonna have to put me down for a while.

"I gained 70 pounds with Red...and stuck out pretty far. You're even bigger than Jeremy so this kid might be fucking huge."

He sets me down and smiles at me.

"Show me. Red's got a soccer ball in his room..."

What the fuck? Aw hell, why not?

I'm fishing around in Red's room for the ball while Eli stands in the doorway. I find the ball and stuff it into my tank top and he looks at me extremely fondly and have I mentioned that I think marrying him was a really good idea?

"Stop...don't get all gooey."

"Right, sorry. This is for science and not for telling you how much I really fucking love you."

I stop in the hallway, and let him try to pin me again. He obviously can lift me still, but repeatedly gets soccer ball'd in the face.

"What else, caveman?"

So we end up in the living room, on the couch, in a lewd pantomime of what his favorite use of the new couch has been...giggling over how ridiculous it is, how dumb we can be sometimes. Again, he's bapped in the face, and shifts us around until he's crammed into the corner with his bottom half off the couch entirely.

"If I stop skipping leg day and if you don't mind not being able to kiss during, this might work."

He takes the ball out of my shirt, shifts up until his ass his actually on the couch, moves me until I'm straddling his hips and then just...doesn't do what I think he's winding up to do. Instead, he pulls me down until I'm laying on his chest and just wraps me up in his arms and squeezes. Not hard, but enough. He's like a weighted blanket in a human suit and I immediately start getting a little sleepy.

"Did I ever thank you?"

"Hmm?"

"For making me a father...three times now." We haven't talked about the miscarriage in a long time but we can't not now...it feels like something that can't be hidden away anymore...it's not like we can forget it anyway. "It counted for me. I felt it...something we will always have together even if it's gone. It counted."

He doesn't stop me from crying, doesn't try to negotiate or shush me. Doesn't offer another kitten if I just stop. He just holds me through it, like he's held me through everything else but I still apologize.

"I'm sorry that it didn't...that I couldn't..."

His grip on me gets soothingly tighter.

"No...listen to me. I promised the rest of my life to you, and that's just how life is sometimes. But I'll here, no matter what."