becoming unprocessed

my friend, b, started her bradley method birthing classes a few weeks ago. her birth teacher tells her sugar is really bad. it's poison. recently, i began reading "bringing up bebe" to get some perspective on being a mother (i highly recommend it - it is the antidote to the all-consuming motherhood model that is put upon us in american culture). in that book, she talked about the french day care system and how they serve one year olds fresh vegetables, fish, and fresh fruit - nothing processed. so between bradley and france, i was inspired. i made a resolution to become unprocessed - no more processed food from here on out for the rest of my pregnancy.

 

lofty goals is my name, failing is my game. i think i would have been able to do it had one thing not happened. on saturday evening, during a trader joe's trip, after my lecture to my brother and his fiancee about how bad cereal is for you, my future sister-in-law mentioned her weakness for cinnamon toast crunch to me. oh you bet i gave her judging eyes. cereal is bad enough. there is NOTHING of redemption in cinnamon toast crunch. well baby carlson must have been paying attention because he had me begging husband last night to go out and get some cinnamon toast crunch. i had to have it. but husband was already in bed half asleep. so i waited until he left for work this morning and walked on over to the grocery store where i treated myself to a box of cinnamon toast crunch. i'd just like to say that though i majorly failed, there is some evidence of gracie will left. the store was having a buy two for five dollars deal. i grabbed both boxes and made my way to the cashier, but then turned around to put one box back on the shelf. props to me.

 

i guess the upside of the story is that apparently baby carlson's hearing is just fine! he heard his future aunt's cinnamony, toasty, sugary, crunchy message LOUD AND CLEAR!

the great cracker challenge

on saturday evening, it was a little known fact that it is not humanly possible to eat six saltine crackers in one minute. and by little known fact, i mean, only the pregnant women knew this fact. my husband, the ever suspicious, "is my wife telling me the truth, or just asserting with bravado," did not believe it and so, as we like to say in our house, "challenge accepted."  here is my husband's cracker challenge in a series of images. ***spoiler alert*** the pregnant lady was correct (as usual). just so you know, and much to my chagrin, we did not get a photo of him "saliva prepping" his mouth - gargling and swishing ice water around so as to make sure his mouth was at the optimum saltine-moistening start position.

the cheerful and self-assured soon-to-be, first-ever, saltine cracker eating champion

laughing is not conducive to the cracker challenge

with just under thirty seconds to go, and still three saltines on his plate (note he has not swallowed the other three saltines yet - he was still chewing and trying to moisten them enough so as not to cut up his throat)

five-four-three-two-one: gracie is vindicated

and because i know most of you just do not quite believe this to be impossible, go ahead, take the cracker challenge and send me your victory pictures! 

my silver tongued prince charming

my husband is so supportive. truly. he has a way with words that uplift me and take my self esteem to new found heights. i had a particularly hard day on friday - between an overwhelming work load and the overwhelming need to nest that drove me to my hands and knees vacuuming and mopping our apartment floor, i just could not handle the pregnancy anymore. this may have had something to do with the fact that i had not showered nor put on any makeup. it was a ghastly sight each time i walked by the mirror, covered in dust, "pregnancy shine" and that extra layer of pregnancy fat, gently surrounding my now rotund face. 

i tried to hold it together. i really did. i finally sat on the couch as evening approached, ready to catch up on downton abbey. but then i heard the key unlocking our front door and as soon as husband came through the door, i burst into tears. husband stared at me, not sure what to say, or what to do, while i tried to utter my suffering, through staggering breaths and intense sobbing. "i'm SO fat!. my face is as round as a basketball." husband, came over, put his hands around my face and replied, "babe, don't be silly. you're pregnant. you're supposed to gain weight. plus your face is not as round as a basketball. it's more like a honeydew."

so on saturday, while at costco, we decided to do a side by side comparison. what do you think? i may never be able to eat the much loathed honeydew every again. alternatively, my face could just be puffed up, along with the rest of me, after that pep talk. hard not get too big for my britches after husband's loving words of reassurance. 

Chester Cheetos is Not Welcome

you know the saying, "love has no limits,"? well, let me tell you, it does. love stops when crumbs in bed may be involved. 

last night, i found myself to be a particularly ravenous pregnant lady - i'm told the midnight munchies are an (un)fortunate symptom of pregnancy that gets progressively worse throughout the pregnancy. at first, i tried to fight it, as i heard momma chiang's voice in my head, "don't eat snacks too late at night." i'm pretty sure pizza at 12:05 a.m. would fall exactly in this category. so as i lamented  my state of starvation, i simultaneously refused to get out of bed for a snack. 

eventually i caved and walked into the kitchen, opening all our cupboards, and at long last, ending up in my beloved pantry, where i spotted a bag of cheetos - remnants from my first trimester snack cravings. as i opened the bag and began to make my way back to the bed, my beloved husband said, "don't you dare come into bed with those. you'll get crumbs everywhere." [sidenote: leaving a trail of crumbs everywhere is also a special pregnancy skill, soon to be added to my esteemed resume.]  and for emphasis, he closed the  door, and i heard him say, "just to be sure, i'm going to lock the door until you are finished eating those cheetos." too starved to argue, i stood outside my closed bedroom door munching away, thinking to myself, this must be fairly close to what outer darkness and the weeping and gnashing of teeth will feel like - banished, with all cheetos enjoyment taken away.