Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Jackson Robert Wells
Born September 3rd at 1:30 AM. Jackson weighed in at 8.5 ounces, 21 inches long.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Cravings, cravings, cravings
I just got back from lunch. Mind you, I don't eat like this all the time, so don't file a 51A with DSS, or feel like you need to hold an intervention for the safety of our unborn child. However, I did have to share this and reconsider a blatant lie that I made on my last entry. I DO, in fact, have obscene cravings sometimes that go above and beyond the healthy blueberries I had mentioned . . .
The Galleria, a place near work which houses close to 15 different fast food options at your fingertips, is a glowing and welcoming mecca to the pregnant woman. There's no need to fully commit to one type of food and limit yourself. With a debit card in hand, a woman is free to make many choices and rationalize her purchases by crediting herself with supporting local vendors.
Eyes wide open, I waddled the court, belly preciously plump, and salivating at all my choices while searching for the ultimate cessation to what I was craving. It was an ideal place to be, because I just couldn't pinpoint what I wanted. So, I started with the basic sandwich at Subway. For a small length of time, I considered a turkey 6 inch, mainly because of the banana peppers that I've become addicted to as of late. I think, if I had a jar, I could add the peppers to every meal regardless of it was icecream or a burger. Unfortunately, my conscience got the best of me, and the angel in my head reminded me that it's not best practice to eat lunch meat when you are pregnant, let alone, lunch meat from a shady Subway in a food court...so I quietly walked away and headed for the Chinese restaurant.
Normally, any kind of "Chinese" food makes my stomach revolt and turn inside out, but for the record, an eggroll and golden fingers sounded remarkable. So, that's perfect! Let's have Chinese with a side of banana peppers. But wait!! I see the golden arches on the horizon . . . I can't kid you, I LOVE the sweet tea. I love the gallons of sugar that Micky D's melts into the 12 servings of liquid bliss that are sold to you for 99 cents. Only in America! Anyone who claims to reject the intense sweetness of this nectar, from the Gods, is surely a disgrace to Southerners everywhere. I really had a hankering sweet tea . . . paired perfectly, as only a crispy chicken biscuit can do. Heck, if I threw in some banana peppers, I think the fried chicken biscuit could cancel the craving for the golden fingers and eggroll. And, as an added bonus, the peppers could count as a veggie. So, maybe I'm all set . . .
But, low and behold, out of the corner of my eye, I see a delicate looking man scarfing down something marvelously cheesy and saucy?? Is that pepperoni? I immediately made a B-line for Sbarro, and forgot all my choices thus far. Nothing else mattered. Shoot, with utter shame and despair, I realized that I couldn't have pizza AGAIN - I JUST had pizza yesterday - twice. But now I was fully committed - I had become sandwiched between other onlookers, making food choices, and I couldn't retreat. But with a glance past the pizza, I became captivated by the last tray on the right. Meatballs. At the current moment, I have a slight obsession with rolled up, unrecognizable meat. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love meatballs regardless of my pregnant state, but that I am VERY picky and, truly, only eat homemade meatballs from people I know and trust. All that got thrown out the window. I ordered spaghetti and meatballs simmering in sauce, and made a "combo" with the addition of a tomato cucumber salad and a PEPSI. A straight Pepsi - full of caffeine and loaded with enough sugar to make sweet tea taste like water. They threw in a bread stick for good measure. At the time, I was still anticipating a walk over to Baskin Robins for a "healthy smoothie" if I was unsatisfied. But, how could I be unsatisfied??
$9.78 later, with my two pounds of pasta and a tray load of food, I waddled my way to find a corner table to eat in peace and not be judged. Glory - I found it! Needless to say, four bites of a meatball and 3 twirls of pasta later, I was grossed out and couldn't even look at the tower of food before me. With overpowering guilt for spending 10 dollars on a box of spaghetti, and knowing that there are starving people out there and my carbon footprint wasn't getting any smaller, I focused on my salad and Pepsi. To my avail, neither were satisfying. So I made the walk of shame to the trash can, and found myself entering CVS. After the purchase of a sparkling flavored water and a bag of Swedish fish, I, and this belly of mine, were utterly content. The moral of the story - when you enter a food court and you are pregnant, don't limit yourself to one franchise. Go with your cravings and keep your options open. Your growing midsection gives you the license to buy odd combinations of foods without judgment.
The Galleria, a place near work which houses close to 15 different fast food options at your fingertips, is a glowing and welcoming mecca to the pregnant woman. There's no need to fully commit to one type of food and limit yourself. With a debit card in hand, a woman is free to make many choices and rationalize her purchases by crediting herself with supporting local vendors.
Eyes wide open, I waddled the court, belly preciously plump, and salivating at all my choices while searching for the ultimate cessation to what I was craving. It was an ideal place to be, because I just couldn't pinpoint what I wanted. So, I started with the basic sandwich at Subway. For a small length of time, I considered a turkey 6 inch, mainly because of the banana peppers that I've become addicted to as of late. I think, if I had a jar, I could add the peppers to every meal regardless of it was icecream or a burger. Unfortunately, my conscience got the best of me, and the angel in my head reminded me that it's not best practice to eat lunch meat when you are pregnant, let alone, lunch meat from a shady Subway in a food court...so I quietly walked away and headed for the Chinese restaurant.
Normally, any kind of "Chinese" food makes my stomach revolt and turn inside out, but for the record, an eggroll and golden fingers sounded remarkable. So, that's perfect! Let's have Chinese with a side of banana peppers. But wait!! I see the golden arches on the horizon . . . I can't kid you, I LOVE the sweet tea. I love the gallons of sugar that Micky D's melts into the 12 servings of liquid bliss that are sold to you for 99 cents. Only in America! Anyone who claims to reject the intense sweetness of this nectar, from the Gods, is surely a disgrace to Southerners everywhere. I really had a hankering sweet tea . . . paired perfectly, as only a crispy chicken biscuit can do. Heck, if I threw in some banana peppers, I think the fried chicken biscuit could cancel the craving for the golden fingers and eggroll. And, as an added bonus, the peppers could count as a veggie. So, maybe I'm all set . . .
But, low and behold, out of the corner of my eye, I see a delicate looking man scarfing down something marvelously cheesy and saucy?? Is that pepperoni? I immediately made a B-line for Sbarro, and forgot all my choices thus far. Nothing else mattered. Shoot, with utter shame and despair, I realized that I couldn't have pizza AGAIN - I JUST had pizza yesterday - twice. But now I was fully committed - I had become sandwiched between other onlookers, making food choices, and I couldn't retreat. But with a glance past the pizza, I became captivated by the last tray on the right. Meatballs. At the current moment, I have a slight obsession with rolled up, unrecognizable meat. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love meatballs regardless of my pregnant state, but that I am VERY picky and, truly, only eat homemade meatballs from people I know and trust. All that got thrown out the window. I ordered spaghetti and meatballs simmering in sauce, and made a "combo" with the addition of a tomato cucumber salad and a PEPSI. A straight Pepsi - full of caffeine and loaded with enough sugar to make sweet tea taste like water. They threw in a bread stick for good measure. At the time, I was still anticipating a walk over to Baskin Robins for a "healthy smoothie" if I was unsatisfied. But, how could I be unsatisfied??
$9.78 later, with my two pounds of pasta and a tray load of food, I waddled my way to find a corner table to eat in peace and not be judged. Glory - I found it! Needless to say, four bites of a meatball and 3 twirls of pasta later, I was grossed out and couldn't even look at the tower of food before me. With overpowering guilt for spending 10 dollars on a box of spaghetti, and knowing that there are starving people out there and my carbon footprint wasn't getting any smaller, I focused on my salad and Pepsi. To my avail, neither were satisfying. So I made the walk of shame to the trash can, and found myself entering CVS. After the purchase of a sparkling flavored water and a bag of Swedish fish, I, and this belly of mine, were utterly content. The moral of the story - when you enter a food court and you are pregnant, don't limit yourself to one franchise. Go with your cravings and keep your options open. Your growing midsection gives you the license to buy odd combinations of foods without judgment.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Anxiously awaiting!
Here we are - at 34 weeks pregnant! Apparently, this little guy is the size of a cantaloupe at the moment. To me, he feels more like an overinflated basketball than a piece of fruit, but alas, he is healthy and growing by the minute. I assume he must be very long, though they say he is only about 18 inches, because his foot is resting rather uncomfortably under my right rib and jabbing me with every breath. "Jabbing" is being kind - in reality, it is a sharpened gitzu sushi knife stabbing me mercilessly until it just randomly feels like stopping. But, regardless of these inconveniences and sudden pains, I am no one to complain about this pregnancy! He has been an utter delight for 9 months . . . no morning sickness, no horrid stories to tell, and no revolting or odd cravings (except blueberries...lots of them, in amounts I am not proud of). Thinking back though, I've been pretty fortunate to say the least . . .
This weekend, Mike and I took a Babymoon. After taking one, I realize it's a stupid concept, and just another way for people to take advantage of pregnant couples and their pressure to spend more money. According to the "experts", it's supposed to be the last hurrah before the baby arrives. Supposedly, a chance to connect and think about your future as a couple and a family while you are glancing out over the caribbean blue and sipping virgin daquiries. That is just way too much pressure if you ask me. So, we decided to book our version of a babymoon - we spent the weekend at a shady motel in Eastham, and loved every white trash moment of it! We spent the day at Head of the Meadow beach in Truro, and then made our way to Race Point in Provincetown. FYI - skip H. Meadow beach until the first full moon in August: the Green Head flies will bite you incessently until you bolt into the 59 degree water for safety and solace, and emerge encased in ice for your protection. Race Point, however, was magnificent! We enjoyed every moment of our time together, and we didn't feel the pressure to write a will or call New York Life for more insurance . . . we just laughed and read and slept and ate. We enjoyed every moment together.
This weekend, Mike and I took a Babymoon. After taking one, I realize it's a stupid concept, and just another way for people to take advantage of pregnant couples and their pressure to spend more money. According to the "experts", it's supposed to be the last hurrah before the baby arrives. Supposedly, a chance to connect and think about your future as a couple and a family while you are glancing out over the caribbean blue and sipping virgin daquiries. That is just way too much pressure if you ask me. So, we decided to book our version of a babymoon - we spent the weekend at a shady motel in Eastham, and loved every white trash moment of it! We spent the day at Head of the Meadow beach in Truro, and then made our way to Race Point in Provincetown. FYI - skip H. Meadow beach until the first full moon in August: the Green Head flies will bite you incessently until you bolt into the 59 degree water for safety and solace, and emerge encased in ice for your protection. Race Point, however, was magnificent! We enjoyed every moment of our time together, and we didn't feel the pressure to write a will or call New York Life for more insurance . . . we just laughed and read and slept and ate. We enjoyed every moment together.
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