Side Effects

So, I'm pregnant. What does this mean for me? Aside from the promise of  horribly intense pain quelled by the miracle of epidural  in about 7 months? I'll tell you of my journey, which has thus far mirrored my previous amble down Gestation Way exactly. (Including the part where I didn't know I was pregnant when I went to a holiday party, drank more than was prudent for one who is carrying a child, and found out I was pregnant two days later. Uncanny.)

I am one of the fortunate few(?) who do not suffer from morning/afternoon/evening/dark hours of the night sickness. Don't hate me please, for I really do realize how lucky I am. I've had friends who are just completely laid out by their first trimester. Perhaps my anti-vom disposition is genetic though: I inherited my distaste-verging-on-fear of nausea from my father (who has a running bet with a friend about how long they can go without tossing cookies - the record, I believe, is 15 years), and my constitution to stand strong against it from my mother. Eight kids, and nary a day of throw up in that six collective years of being pregnant. Her battle was extreme fatigue though: she once fell asleep in the drive-thru at El Pollo Loco, and I, the ten-year-old nerdfest that I was at that age (and ages prior and hence), was reading some book or another in the front seat. So who knows how long that employee was hanging halfway out of the drive-thru window dangling our food and waiting for us to pull up?

However. I am hungry- nay, starving- nay, voracious- nay, Jordan give me that animal cracker or I'll eat it and a couple pudge fingies right off of your hand.

That's me on the left out to lunch with my transvestite friends David and Adam.

David wouldn't share his fries. 

Seriously, it feels like a tiny little something is floating through my body and methodically eating me from the inside out. That's more or less what's happening yes? (I clearly have a good read on what the incubation process is all about.)

The other day, Sean had fortuitously timed his getting home from work with my getting home from the store, and as he handed Jordan to me and walked toward the front seat to retrieve our groceries, he inquired amiably, "How are you feeling?" My reply of "RAVENOUS" was timed perfectly with his opening the car door and viewing the box of Annie's Homegrown Organic Bunny Classics (that I had purchased for Jordan) torn completely asunder, with a good 25% missing. I hadn't quite bothered with conventional channels of opening snack boxes, but instead had ripped apart the bottom, which not only does not have a re-closing tab (but who needs those anyway?), but also makes it difficult to read how many calories there were per 6 servings that I had consumed.

For whatever reason, I've actually shed 4 pounds since being pregnant. This happened with Jordan as well in my first trimester. I guess my spanking new in-utero babies have an innate survival mode switch, compelling them to seek out and annihilate my stranded-on-a-desert island reserve that I've always kept on hand belly. It also might be due to the fact that I really try and eat healthier when pregnant. I make good attempt to do that anyways, but when I'm channeling my every bite directly into another human being, it gives me an extra sense of responsibility.

What has been saving me (and what I've been making on repeat for the last few weeks) is my good ol' Caprese. It's only one of my favorite things in the entire world, which is odd because it's so very healthy. The added bonus is it would be all but impossible for me to screw it up since it is a ridiculously easy and speedy process.

A tomato (of any variety you like), a wedge of mozzarella, and a handful of fresh basil leaves play the starring roles in this award-winning presentation. Basil, will you marry me? You're so fresh and so fine.

Olive oil, balsamic vinegar and ground black pepper are critical to the supporting cast.

Here's the finished product because I really don't you need instructions past: cube, slice, drizzle, grind, enjoy. In whatever tomato to mozzarella to basil to oil/vinegar/pepper proportions you desire. And BY THE WAY, I'm so glad I thought of this smashed avocado on whole wheat toast thing. No, not like I invented it, but thought to do it. With just the stingiest layer of butter and a healthy slather of ripe avocado, topped with a hint of kosher salt, my baby is basking in the sunshine of Omega 3's. And loving life.

This is what happens five minutes after you make this meal:

 that last bit there, he didn't make it.

and isn't it a good thing your husband HATEShates both avocado and tomato so you don't have to share? And that your 18-monther likes her tomatoes plain Jane, if you please? It's a good thing for me. I made Sean scrambled eggs, he was fine.

Between that and keeping fruit on hand at all times, I'm hoping to not blow up like a bouncy house like I did with Jordan. Seriously. My fingers were like Polish sausages. Jordan's babyweight and this baby's babyweight are overlapping as it is, so let's keep the good thought shall we?