I am shocked and amazed by the "number" this pregnancy has done on my body (sorry, I've been reading too much of this blog). Not only do I feel like death all day and all night but I also can't seem to bring myself to eat... at least not without a total pep talk and threat that I'll take away my "Roseanne" or some other guilty pleasure. But there it is. My new harsh reality is that, for now at least, I don't want your food. And if that food involves a raw or cooked vegetable, I want it even less. For instance, I've only had a teeny tiny small bit of salad one time within the past two weeks. And that was a bargaining ploy because I was really just wanting to get to the steaming vat of meatloaf. That's right. Meatloaf. Friday, we took an adventure to Nashville for a meeting with my new midwife (as you may have read about here) and to have a magician named Shana do something amazing with may hair- details to come). Like an idiot, I didn't consider the fact that we were booked solid from the time we got to "the big city" until the time we had to be back to the Boro in order to save my poor, exhausted in-laws from having to take our rambunctious children to a wedding to which they had not been invited. So, without thinking, I didn't bring any snacks. Just one pitiful stainless steel bottle of water, which becomes nauseating itself on an empty stomach. Our solution? A feast at the Front Porch Cafe's buffet. Yes! I ate the "lasagna" (those quotation marks were necessary because there were actually no lasagna noodles) and didn't pick around the cheese. I dined on slices of turkey with a weird yet delicious mustard sauce. The mashed potatoes and rice, the two seemingly only dairy and meat free items on the buffet... not so great. What I really liked best was the meatloaf though. I didn't put much of it on my plate because I figured I wouldn't like it. Boy was I wrong.
I didn't enjoy food again until yesterday when I decided that a bean burrito from a local Mexican restaurant was in order. Give me credit. I ordered it without cheese.
Last night, on my drive home from loitering at my in law's house (hey, I'm sick and pregnant. Someone has to watch my kids) I gazed longingly at a place called Taco Bell, or as the Cap'n and I lovingly call it: Toxic Hell. I had not eaten dinner (or breakfast for that matter) and I was hungry. But the only thing that would have satisfied my weird pregnancy appetite was a mexi melt with no meat. Or maybe a chicken taco, hold the cheese, add lettuce and tomato with mild sauce. Of course a good ole Mexican Pizza with no meat would have done just fine. But I drove by it. I stood my ground. "I'm not adding to the landfill by using up their packaging. I'm not going to support corporate evils. Blahdeeeblahblah." I stopped at Kroger, He-Man shirtless (a long story that involves Dry Erase Markers and many of them), and took my redneck family inside, directly to the frozen foods in the health food department. There were two cartons of rice milk ice cream on closeout and some "Ethnic Gourmet" meals on sale. Everything else was full price. And what you may or may not know is that full price in the Kroger health food department means "I may as well have gone to a full blown restaurant". We exited empty handed. What did I end up eating? Some of the kids' organic blueberry waffles and four strawberries. With grade A maple syrup and, you guessed it, Earth Balance. It was okay. Not as good as Taco Bell.
I've made the Cap'n promise that from now on, he will take responsibility for making sure that I eat. The kids are fine. I can feed them rice milk and cereal at every meal and they don't seem to notice or care. But I'm growing a human here. I need already made meals for my fridge. I need decent frozen convenience foods for when I can't fathom cooking (like most every day). It looks like a trip to Trader Joe's is in order but until then, I guess that I'm going to just have to do the Whole Foods thing. But I'm still mad at you Whole Foods. But I'm mad at food in general.