Cutting Weight vs. Putting Some On

So my husband is a wrestler... not Stone Cold Steve Austin style, but a real, full-time freestyle wrestler. The U.S. Open kicks off in Cleveland tomorrow. This is an awesome opportunity for my husband and I am so incredibly proud of his hard work, but with wrestling comes weight cutting.

Now I grew up in a wrestling family. I watched my brother wrestle from age 6 into high school, my dad and his brother both wrestled, and now my husband is at the highest competing level of the sport. I'm no stranger to it and I enjoy it. I even sympathize, schedule accordingly, and walk around on eggshells during competition weeks because my husband usually has to drop anywhere from 15 to 25 lbs. Any other time this is all fine for me ... BUT NOT WHEN I'M PREGNANT!

Before his last competition I was dying for a cookie or just something sweet, but we keep those temptations out of the house when its weight cutting time. So I gently told him I was craving something sweet and would go get it on my own and not eat it in front of him if he would just watch our daughter for a bit. He agreed and I thought to myself what a sweet, understanding, dehydrated husband I have ! <3

So I went to the grocery store bakery and found something beyond my greatest expectations... a soft chocolate chip cookie practically the size of my hand covered in vanilla frosting with sprinkles! Jackpot. The only downside was you could only buy them in packages of five... but I excitedly bought them anyway and retreated to my car where I downed one in the parking lot ( which btw can really make you feel like you have issues, but at least I can blame them on my husband).  So after getting back home I wiped off the crumbs from my jacket and tucked the rest of the package into the pantry. Well wouldn't you know, seconds later my husband spots them with his hawk eyes or hound nose or something and bursts into a fit.

"What is this?? You brought them into the house?!? There's like five of them here! You can't be bringing in five freakin cookies like this!"

"But babe, I said I wouldn't eat them in front of you and I'd get them myself. That was the deal," I said calmly.

"Frosting???? They have frosting!?! Well, now I'm gonna have to have one!" he yelled with sincerity.

Thankfully we all compromised by splitting one between him and my daughter, while I hide the package somewhere else.

But now it's a competition week again... and my husband is at "work" at 8 pm relieving himself of some lbs. Before he left I asked very nicely, "Would you be mad if I asked you to bring back some Rita's?" After all, I had to stay home with our daughter who is in bed and thought I'd give my craving a try.

Let's just say it ended with a bunch of question marks and exclamation points again. But before he walked out the door, I got the last word...

"I'm pregnant with your child, and you're just hungry!!"  

(By the way, I am so dead when he finally gets home tonight 

and reads this. I love you, babe!)