Well. It happened. I’m no athlete, but apparently my husband was a swimmer in a past life and passed his athleticism on to his lil guys and managed to knock me up. Yikes. After my initial nervousness and trepidation (I waited two days to tell him I was pregnant because I was so shocked), I broke the news. He was pumped, I was hungry. Fast forward 27 weeks and I’m now almost 7 months pregnant, and incredibly excited to meet whatever nugget I’m baking. It’s been named Crawbaby, and honestly I’m considering keeping that as its name once it hatches—choosing names is too hard. At the beginning of my pregnancy I puked up anything I ate (helllllooooo diet!), so I wasn’t keen on cooking. Currently, I’m large, in charge, and back to my normal routine. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t gotten a spicy chicken sandy from Chickfila and fries from Taco Villa all at once. I might only do this baby thing once, and damnit, I will order what I want. If you live in a town with Taco V., I highly recommend subbing their curly fries as a side to any sandwich from another restaurant. You won’t regret it. While with child, I recommend being as indecisive as possible when communicating with your spouse. It leads to better snacks. Example: I texted Crawdad and told him I was craving butterfinger ice cream (which doesn’t exist as far as I know), and that he could get it at Walgreens. False. I also texted him a photos of butterfinger cups, a frosty, a mcflurry and an ice cream cone, and told him to be creative and not F it up. He came home with this….
That. Is. My. Baby. Daddy. Father of my spawn, apple of my eye. Didn’t even ask if he could have any. Clearly didn’t scarf it all in one sitting, but I def ate all the butterfinger cups within 24 hours….
I’ve been super busy trying to work as much as possible before this nugget hatches, so I haven’t been great about posting, but I will have several recipes posted in the next few days….
- Turkey Meatball Subs
- Grilled Veggie Platter with a Greek yogurt/lemon butter dipping sauce
- Crispy Shrimp Flautas
- Garlic Chicken Burgers
All are relatively easy, with the exception of the flautas. They are scary as shit to make because they require holding tongs into hot oil. I learned the hard way about having oil too hot…got popped in the eye with grease and cried real human tears. Unfortunately, I am no longer the semi-feelingless robot that I used to be. I cry at basically everything, from a Folgers commercial to my husband telling me he doesn’t want to go to an early morning dentist appointment. I recommend just not talking to me at all if you want to avoid making me cry. Or you could just tell me I’m pretty and funny. I’d probably also be so happy to hear that compliment that I would bawl. I’m just batshit crazy, so avoid me completely. Being knocked up isn’t all bad though, I have a friend (who I consider an angel), who randomly does “Donut Drops,” wherein she leaves a bag of donuts on my doorstep. So far, she has dropped them off in the snow and torrential rain, and I think she is the greatest person in the world. If you’ve never had a glazed twisty from T&T in Midland, you are missing out. That is all I have for now, and I’ve got to bounce—I’m getting new carpet installed because I didn’t like the way my old carpet looked with the crib, so it just seemed natural to replace the whole room’s carpet. And I wrecked my car backing into a wall. And we just got a new water heater. And also, having a kid is expensive. So basically I am cashless cow making my husband bleed money. But I am housing his spawn and I feed him, so I feel like we are pretty basically even. Right?