I was never very good at sharing food. I could probably blame it on my crazy high metabolism, which requires a constant stream of fuel….but, I think I’m just selfish with food. And now I’m pregnant. This means my husband has to really watch his step when entering the kitchen. I know sometimes I’m irrational, but there are pregnant ways of being I can’t ignore, like the fact that the scent of fresh pineapple is the most intoxicating scent to me right now and I NEED to consume an enormous bowl of it every morning and I  WILL notice if even one piece is missing from my stockpile in the fridge. The list of food in the house that my husband is not allowed to touch extends far beyond pineapple at this point though. It’s pretty insane for me to expect him to ask my permission every time he has a snack, but what can I say….it’d be nice. I thought he had learned his lesson after the Carmel Greek Yogurt incident, in which he got reamed out so badly for indulging in a few of “mine” that he drove 30 minutes out of his way to buy me 3 cases of it the next day. But, I guess he forgot that lesson learned, because I just sat down with a nice cup of tea to accompany the one oatmeal raisin cookie I had waiting for me in the cabinet…and it was gone. Unacceptable.

Another fun change concerning food is the fact that my belly has become a food catching device. I can’t figure out if I have always dribbled water out of my mouth when I drink and lost pieces of my meal while I eat, and just never noticed because there was nothing to stop its fall before. Or, have I just become a more slovenly eater since I’ve been knocked up? I’m not sure, but I seem to always have water drips and food stains down my front these days. Lovely. I guess it’s preparing me for motherhood though, when I’ll always have some form of spit-up, food, snots or pee on my clothes at any given time.

All that aside, I am euphoric these days with every reminder of the sweet reward that will come at the end of this crazy journey. I constantly have dreams about giving birth and holding my baby girl, and it’s exciting every time. Holding her in my dreams somewhat satisfies my impatience. Ahhhh……15 more weeks!