Exhausted at Seven

I climbed the stairs to our apartment seven times yesterday. That may not sound like a big deal, but it is. We live on the third floor. I am 33 weeks pregnant. I'm pretty active and walk 3 to 5 miles each day, but not up steep hills. I do climb the stairs two to four times each day. But after seven, I was pooped. My thighs hurt. My butt hurt. I got slower and slower each time.

First, I had to climb up the stairs after my morning walk.

Second, I had to climb up the stairs after taking out the stench of a trash can cuz I couldn't stand it for one more second. Usually Andrew takes out the trash.

Third, I climbed the stairs after walking to the grocery store. I carried a cabbage and a large can of tomato sauce.

Fourth, I climbed the stairs after watching Downton Abbey with my friend Shannon.

Fifth, I climbed the stairs after taking dinner to someone in the ward.

Sixth, I climbed the stairs after going on a walk and getting the mail with Andrew.

And the seventh time I climbed the stairs was after we had pie with friends.

I said to Andrew, "I should climb the stairs just one more time and make it an even eight."

Andrew told me not to. "In Hebrew culture," he said, "seven is perfection and complete."

On that note, I hope that my thighs and butt are perfect now. Since we are culturally Hebrew (not), that makes total sense. So far today, I have only climbed the stairs once and started off my day with a bubble bath.