December 14, 2011 by Heather
I just almost got stressed out. I thought I was out of potatoes. Luckily, there was a small one in the bottom of that blessed bag.
Yes, potatoes are my pregnancy craving. For now, at least. Well, now, and the past month. My other craving: hot dogs with mustard from the snack bar at Target. I can’t even go there now without getting one. I see them rolling on that little roll-y cooker and it’s like a magnetic pull or something. I have no choice. I pay $2.19 (an outrageous price for a hot dog, I think), squirt two packets of mustard on it, throw away the foil wrapper the worker girl so lovingly swaddled it in, and proudly walk through the store eating that little wiener from heaven. I get mustard all over my chin/nose/mouth/hands, but it doesn’t matter. It’s probably a disgusting sight to behold, a round-bellied lady cramming in a hot dog like it’s her last meal, while getting mustard everywhere in the process. I don’t care.
My salty cravings are one indication, according to various sources, that I am having a boy. I think that would be hilarious if all this time I’ve been craving wieners I’ve got one growing inside. Wouldn’t that be terrific? Haha.
Another sign that it could be a boy is if you’re weight gain is mostly sticking to your backside and hips. YEP. HAND RAISED HIGH ON THAT ONE. I feel good when I look in the mirror front-ways and side-ways, but as soon as I turn around and cast a glance over my shoulder it’s like what in the world is happening back there… the delicious region under my butt cheeks is starting to look like I sat on an air vent for a while. It’s kind of fun to squeeze, actually. I always thought dimples were cute, on the face, of course. But I’ll take what I can get.
Apparently my pregnant body is immune to the effects of the lunges & squats I am doing a few times a week.
We find out the baby’s genitalia, I mean gender, on Monday. I am very excited. Andrew’s worried that they are going to find 6 fingers on each hand. We shall see.