First of all, this whole nine-month pregnancy thing that I've been hearing my whole life is total bullshit. Forty weeks is clearly ten months. Still, I'm not complaining - it's been eight months, and I'm still kind of enjoying the whole pregnancy thing.
I mean...I'm enormous, and apparently the baby is going to be gaining a half a pound a week from now on, so.... I have to pee every ten minutes. Sleep and I are on awkward terms (at 2pm, sleep's all, "Let's do this!" but at 3am, sleep's like, "Let's party, and by party, I mean think about all the shit you have to do before the baby arrives! Also, pee again."). And I miss wine. Like, really miss it. However, I have been incredibly lucky - I feel pretty great overall, and feeling this little guy tap dancing and barrel rolling (I assume) inside of me is kind of the best.
Also the best? Everyone just has to accept your weird food habits when you're pregnant.
People keep asking me what I'm craving, and I'm never really sure what to say. I've always been a pretty big fan of food, and that hasn't changed. However, lately I cannot get enough of Trader Joe's Spicy Ranchero Egg White Salad, which looks disgusting but tastes magnificent. I'd say I have that for lunch at least three times a week - with extra hot sauce stirred in because the trader and I have different definitions of spicy.
Also - hot chocolate. Every afternoon, without fail.
To be fair though, the hot chocolate is mainly a way to legitimize my mini marshmallow consumption... I may or may not add a second layer of mini marshmallows after the first one is gone. Who can say?
In other food news, Tom took me for an ice cream tasting last week that almost made up for the lack of wine...
Sea Salt with Caramel Ribbons, Freckled Woodblock Chocolate, Gooey Chocolate Brownie, and Salted Malted Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough? Salt and Straw gets me is what. So does my husband, which is a huge bonus.