132

My sweet husband has been doing p90x for the last month and a half or so. He’s looking pretty h-o-t if I do say so myself. (Something about bright red faces and dripping sweat just drives me wild. Seriously.) Sometimes I’ll attempt to do the workout with him, then half way through (or 1/4 of the way through, same thing…) B will ask “umm, are you ok?” as I crawl to the couch, exhausted and lightheaded. Pretty sure they did not have pregnant women in mind when making the workouts. So I’ve resorted to sitting on the couch with a bowl of something-not-so-healthy while I watch him. Anyway, he was quite bummed that this year he didn’t get to eat any Easter candy (even after I tempted him so many times). So yesterday for our family home evening activity, we stocked up on candy galore for our upcoming Hawaii trip (when he can eat junk with me again)! He insisted I try to the Cadbury mini eggs, and after quite a struggle, he eventually got me to eat the candy (ha!)

 

Pretty sure I died and went to heaven.

They are the Brad Pitt of Easter candy.

And I’ve already finished off a bag (I’m eating for two, remember?! :)

 

The rest of the bags are safely hidden so B can partake of the goodness next month. And I will be dreaming of the chocolaty wonders until then.