foods

It's 12:30 in the AM. And since I took a two and a half hour nap after church, my biological clock is a little screwy. Not to mention I ate my weight in mashed potatoes and watermelon at dinnertime. I'm feeling fat and sassy and in no condition to lay down until I've digested a bit more. Plus I desperately want to keep the heartburn at bay.

So that got me thinking about the foods I've enjoyed--or not enjoyed--during pregnancy. So if you really could care less about my pregnancy diet preferences, stop reading. This is strictly for memory's sake.

Had to Have It
fruit, fruit, fruit. In the beginning, I just wanted something cold, crisp and clean. Open mouth. Enter fruit. Cantaloupe, strawberries, grapes and watermelon--I cannot seem to get enough. Lately the watermelon in our area has been fan-flippin-tastic. I don't think I've ever appreciated watermelon so much as I have the past few weeks. I gorge myself practically. Which doesn't help with my rapidly escalating number of nighttime potty breaks, might I add. But so worth it.

sweets. ay ay ay the sweets. In the first trimester, chocolate made me barf. It was depressing. But HELLO third trimester! Sweets are back on the menu--cheesecake, cupcakes, and donuts. Oh glorious chocolate iced donuts, how I crave you. And thank you donuts for helping me gain some weight and tip that scale. I am proud to report that I have gained 6 pounds in just two weeks. Not necessarily happy, but proud. I don't feel so self-conscious now when someone says, "Wow you're really small for being 8 months pregnant." It gets on my nerves that comment does. Because I hear it all the time. Then I usually get the follow-up comment, "You need to eat more. You want your baby to be healthy." yadda yadda. I really want to retort with, "My doctor says I'm right on track actually, so there!" But it sounds childish and I'm afraid I've really never been very good with confrontations. Just call me George McFly.

tortilla chips. That was pretty much my go-to item in the first and first half of the second trimester. Salty, plain, crunchy tortilla chips. Wherever I went, so did the tortilla chips and crushed ice. Pretty much lived on those babies. I don't miss them.

Take it Away
chicken. Chicken anything just revolted me--especially chicken in creamy sauces like chicken divan. blech. I think really it had to do more with the texture and temperature. Hot, creamy, soft items just gagged me. Its all about the fresh, cold, crisp and crunchy baby. (Which reminds me--I HATE pickles. Loathe those suckers. But when I saw a jar of Vlasic pickles at the grocery store a few months ago, all I could think of was that deliciously loud crunch that pickle makes in all the commercials, and then my mouth started salivating and I HAD to have that jar of pickles. Scott looked at me like I had spiders coming out of my ears when I placed that item in our cart. He detests them even more than I do.)

bbq chips. This one makes me want to cry. We use to have a love affair, bbq chips and I. No longer. Sometimes I'll try one. Just one. For old times sake you know? But it just isn't the same. The relationship has gone sour and so does my stomach.

Other than that, life's dandy. For the most part, I think Baby G really enjoys the food I choose for us. Sometimes, like tonight for instance, I worry that I've put him in a food coma. When something tastes good to me, it really tastes good and I eat and eat. I've never been able to scarf down food so easily than I can now being pregnant. I feel like I've accomplished something when I look down and see an empty plate. It's a good feeling. Until I stand up. And notice my center of gravity has shifted forward about two more degrees.

Tonight it felt like I had shifted forward about 20 degrees. I could barely straighten my back and walk erect I was so full. Then Baby started kicking and moving and with all that food in there too I felt like I would pop. I once saw a BBC Monty Python excerpt where a 400+ pound man sat in a restaurant by himself eating and feasting and devouring. When the waiter came by to give him his little complementary mint with the check, the man refused. "I'll pop if I eat another bite," he said. "Ah come on!" pushed the waiter. "It's just one little mint." The man thinks for a second, shrugs his shoulders like what the heck, alright, and plops the tiny mint in his mouth. Then he immediately explodes.

That's it. That's all I remember. But that's the image that came to my mind as I thanked our friends and waddled uncomfortably out to our car and then again as I climbed the stairs to our apartment door. Then Scott accidentally dropped a cupcake on the floor. I cried instinctively, "Ah man I was gonna eat that!" And I meant it. I really think I would have eaten that cupcake.

Scott saved my life.