As a self-proclaimed Salad Lover, I’ve come to see that the pregnant version of myself is not at all a Salad Lover.
No, these days I’m more of a Salad Avoider. I’m able to stuff leafy greens into sandwiches or the occasional glass of green juice or green smoothie, but my regular salad days are currently on hiatus – much like my days of wearing pants with a button and zipper.
Some of us (who shall go unnamed) have been feeling a lot like this for the past week or so.
(He’s pretending he’s a pregnant woman.)
This means that meals around here have been a bit lackluster lately. I’ve been letting Barbie’s Sharpie outfits steal the show.
I just realized that I post quite a few pictures of my kids in their pajamas. I do dress them when I finally drag myself up from the prone position, I swear.
I get these “Your Pregnancy This Week” emails that list a myriad of facts and tidbits about the wee babe growing inside my uterus, along with any other timely pregnancy notes. You know, like “you’re probably busting out of your bra by now” or “your baby is the size of a tarantula”. Stuff like that.
The Week 18 email mentioned that I’m probably feeling an increase in appetite now.
Well, I hadn’t noticed, but now that you’ve planted the hunger seed, I think I AM feeling hungrier than usual. Thanks for the idea!
In fact, now I’m positively starving.
Dear Everything Bagel,
I know you aren’t the best thing in the world to eat, but you’ve really got a hold on me right now, so I’m rolling with it. Like a bagel would roll down a hill, you might say.
I justified you today with an early morning two mile walk to the bagel shop and then a two mile walk home. Kids at Granny’s for the weekend, husband at home in bed – just you, me, fetus and Jillian Michaels on a sunny Sunday morning? There are worse things.
Let’s say you laid down on the couch this afternoon, kids busy and frolicking to and fro, and you decide to close your eyes for “just a minute”.
Then let’s say you woke up some unknown amount of time later, living room dark, kids off entertaining themselves some place else, and suddenly you realize you’ve got about a half hour before your hungry husband would be home from work and ready for dinner.
In other words, let’s say you needed to throw something together for dinner fast.
More Mama’s Weeds
