Because my growing family and I live in the frozen tundra and nobody else related to me does...

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Moo Cow

So, I'm fairly certain at this point that, girl or boy, my child will be brought into this world weighing well over twelve pounds and mooing with his/her big brown cow eyes. Why do I surmise such crazy things for my bundle of joy? I've always been a cheese loving kind of girl and have never been a stranger to ice cream treats, but this is just getting ridiculous. I've been pregnant for all of four seconds and already the cravings and results of those are getting completely out of hand. I literally jones for food every hour on the hour like a carb-loading fifteen-year old track star. Not the kind of jones where your high will where off if you don't get some, but the kind where you'll pass out while talking to a patient if you don't keep to the crazy schedule of stuffing your face. Literally, standing up, you think you can close your eyes for a single second and the next thing you know, you're leaning on the door and everyone's looking at you like you have a third eye. Yeah, snacks on the hour or pass out and fall down and break your face. Snacks on the hour it is.

Now, the type of food on the daily menu is even more crazytown. Maybe my baby has some paranormal instinct that she's coming into the world with less than adequate feeding fun bags so she's trying to be a little type A problem solver (just like mommy) and getting things taken care of before here grand diva entrance. I eat more cottage cheese, cheese sticks, yogurt, milk, ice cream, cream cheese, frozen yogurt, shakes, milk chocolate (a stretch, but I'm pregnant so shut it), white cheddar rice cakes, anything that has anything to do with anything remotely related to cheese or dairy or milky goodness. We go shopping, the hubby, munchkin and I, and he keeps asking me if I'm okay from the things I'm putting in the cart. I have eaten apple cinnamon oatmeal with a tablespoon of peanut better almost every day for the last two and a half years. Now, I get up and decide I need to make eggs (?), a bagel with cream cheese, fruit out the wazoo or cereal. It's a little crazy. These are all normal foods, yes, I know. But the amounts and combinations are enough to send a much stronger stomached person to their friendly gastroenterologist on a daily basis.

The kicker, despite eating enough to necessitate my husband getting a second job to finance all these chow sessions, is that I've lost 3 lbs and haven't started to gain it back yet. I'm sure this will eventually catch up with me and I'll balloon to the estimated final weight of 199.9 lbs just before delivery. The baby daddy doesn't believe that I can pack on 60 lbs (63 now), but, ha, don't doubt the hormonal garbage disposal. We started taking weekly pictures of my previously svelte (funny) belly so you can all follow my husbands horror as I pack it on.

No comments:

Post a Comment