Sunday, September 7, 2008

Babby rules with an iron fist

I'm going to turn into a big fat slug. I just know it. I already feel like a I'm gaining weight at rates heretofore reserved for feedlot cattle or fryer chickens. At the same time, I feel like it's not my darned fault. That's right, I'm blaming babby for this one!

I used to love to nosh on fresh raw veggies. I threw a handful of mixed veg into almost everything I cooked. I loved to put beans in my quesadillas, and rice and beans was a staple of my diet. I drank bucketloads of water and stayed far away from sugary sodas.

Babby changed all that. Babby makes all vegetables, whether raw or cooked, seem vile. Plain water -- from a tap or from a bottle -- tastes absolutely disgusting unless it's at approximately zero degrees Kelvin. Forget coffee or tea. Things I used to the aforementioned quesadillas, spaghetti with tomato sauce, green peppers, cupcakes, and "chicken" make me want to hurl.
Pregnancy profile

What does babby like, you ask? Babby likes buttered noodles, soda pop, Hawaiian Punch, vanilla yogurt, and PB&J sandwiches. I think that's about it.

Today was a little different for whatever reason. For dinner, I wanted a plate of raw cherry tomatoes, broccoli, string beans, and carrots with a big SPLOT of ranch dressing. All I can say is, "Thank you, babby, for letting me eat like a normal human being for one day out of three long months."

Maybe the end is in sight and I will soon find myself feeling energetic, focused, and hungry for foods that aren't the mainstay of toddler living. Seriously, I'm eating like a three year old!

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