Being a newly-knocked up gal, (I'm almost 7 weeks) I'm still getting the hang of this whole there's-a-new-life-form-growing-in-your-abdomen thingy.
Seriously, the poor hubs. I don't adapt to change very well.
While preparing to (ahem) conceive, I become aware of the obvious things I'd have to give up. Top of the list: drinking. I do wonder what all the local bartenders will do with themselves when the hubs and I don't come in for Friday date night. I picture the top-shelf vodka for my dirty martinis gathering dust and gradually being covered in cobwebs. I see white wine producers scratching their heads at the falling sales in the Pasadena area and wondering what they did to offend.
Even though the local economy may slip even more due to my dry spell, I still do feel hungover everyday, with the occasional vomiting, sans the drinks. And that, dear (one) reader hardly seems fair. (Sorry for the graphic nature of the puking comment but, I have to tell it like it is.)
Moving on, other favorite items also get put away. Caffeine is not allowed (even green tea which only contains about 3mg of the delectable stimulus). My beloved Sushi (with sake, natch) is a complete no-go. And though I wasn't a regular visitor to hot tubs, I certainly can't become one now.
But, after 3 weeks of being on the pregnancy plan, the thing I miss the most: cold cuts.
That's right, no deli meat for the preggo girl. Unless you warm the meat up until it's steaming...but, that kind of ruins the whole point of cold cuts, doesn't it?
I never thought of myself as a sandwich junkie. Actually, never really though about sandwiches that much at all -- I mean, why would you when there's sake and martinis on the brain. But now that I can't have the stuff, I realize what a staple in my life's it's been. When there's nothing really to eat, make a sandwich. Hungry but don't want to consume a whole meal, grab some turkey and you're good to go.
I do realize what I'm saying is that I could possibly miss cold cuts more than drinking. Don't worry, I'll make sure I explore that thought in therapy.
I'm seriously thinking that after this kid is born, I'm gonna chase my dirty martini with a club sandwich. And yes, I did just gross myself out. But I don't think that's going to stop me.
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