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Showing posts with label Pickles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pickles. Show all posts

Monday, February 27, 2012

Pickles, Cravings (and Ravings of a Super-Powered Olfactory)

Your Mom's pregnancy continues to go swimmingly- all signs point to a strong, healthy pregnancy.

Unfortunately, this means a bit of an irrational, weak, odd Mommy!

I came home from work on Friday and your Mom was starving. She wanted burgers. And only burgers. So, we went off to burgers.

(Aidan, you did really well at the burger place- chowing down on some free Sweet Potato chips while we stood in line (so much so, that the cashier gave you your own basket of them to enjoy!); you ate almost a whole 1/2 pound patty, vegetables and pickles, pickles, pickles!! But, you're not the only one in the family who loves pickles. Your brother or sister (and your mom)love pickles too. I like them as well, but this ain't about me.)

Your Mom notified me that for lunch on Friday she literally craved and ate the ultimate in cliche pregnancy dishes: pickles and ice cream. Pistachio ice cream. And cottage cheese. And then bagel bites.


2/26/2012:



The cravings are coming fast and furious. One minute she's chowing down on some Long John Silvers, the next she's got the shiver-me-timbers. "As long as I'm eating, " your mommy said, "the nausea goes away." So eat she does.

On Saturday your Mom craved again. This time it was for...wait for it...dill pickle flavored ice cream from this store at the mall. So, we wound up at the mall, and until she got said popcorn, the only word she could say was "popcorn."

A sample conversation went like this:

Aaron: Ooh, this color suit looks good. What do you think?
Holly: Popcorn.
Aidan: Mama?
Holly: Popcorn.
Aaron: Where are we going?
Holly: Popcorn.
Aaron: Can we stop at H&M on the w--
Holly: Popcorn.

So, luckily, before our conversations got any better, the got a large bag of the stuff. It's quite gross. It tastes like 'scratch and sniff pickle' flavoring was dumped all over a bag of popcorn. Your brother loved it, though. Your mom loved it, and ate piece after piece for a few hours. But, the next day, she couldn't even look at the stuff.

The craving was leaving. On top of the cravings, we also have some ravings. She's not mad, your mother; just nauseus and trying to cope...by buying and wearing special nausea-lessening black wrist bands. Fashion statement aside...she's wearing wrist bands! I was 'uncool' when I wore my awesome wristbands that came with my long-gone Scion XD. But your Mom makes them look...cool...crazy cool. But, apparently, the pressure points on the bottom of the wrist DO help relive nausea...or at least the placebo works. Because, she's not as sick!

But, the pregnancy has continued to heighten her sense of smell. Which isn't good because your brother's been sick, and been on these super sweet-tasting antibiotics which do wonders to...well...doo. Luckily, I was able to change most of these not-so-good-nappies over the weekend...but she might just have to pull her shirt up over her nose if it happens while I'm at work.

But that might not help either. All day yesterday she was going crazy, and actually a bit upset, because Aidan had lost his 'smell.' "He smells like daycare, doesn't he? And it's making me sick! Smell him! Smell Aidan!" Between diapers and daycare, you might think your brother stinks- but he most certainly does not (okay, well, diapers don't smell great, but that's universal). While folding towels later that evening, your mom's super sleuthing nose later discovered that it was, in fact, the laundry detergent that was upsetting the sensitive smeller.

So, between shielding a direct line between my outward breaths while talking, thinking Aidan lost his smell and telling me that the dogs need baths badly (which they do), noone in the Weinstein household is safe from the ravings of the super-powered smeller!

Hopefully you're enojying your accomodations though-- from the way your mom is nauseating and smelling, it seems that you've settled in quite nicely to your womb room and made yourself quite at home.

You are about 6 weeks along now, and about the size of a sweet pea.



Although things aren't smelling so sweet out here (to some of us), we just can't stop thinking about you.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Pregnancy Pickle

No, no, no, you haven't changed from an avocado to a pickle in one day. I'm talking about a different kind of pickle: a connundrum, a sticky situation, a tough call, a catch-22, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

And, ever since she's been pregnant, your Mom seems to be finding herself in a lot of them. Pickles, that is.

Take last night for instance:

Your mother climbs in bed, gets all situated and then throws her arms up in the air.

"Ughhhh!" she says.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I'm hungry, but I'm too tired to get out of bed!"

There you have it, a classic pregnancy pickle.

Now, don't worry, this one was readily solved with a little bit of clear thinking:

"What can I get you to eat?"

"I don't know, I'm hungry but nothing sounds good!" she said, displaying yet another oft-recurring pregnancy pickle.

After a moment of silence she decides, hesitantly, "Raisins?"

And then, in a stroke of genius, your father offers, "What about that bag of dried fruit on your night stand?"

"Oh yeah!!!!" she replies as she reaches for the bag of food she left by her bed the last time she got too hungry in bed but was simultaneously too tired to eat.

Pickle averted! Or was it just pickle postponed.

My guess is the latter. These pickles come up a lot.

Some of my favorites:

  • "I'm bored but too tired to do anything."
  • "I'm tired but too uncomfortable to sleep."
  • "I'm full but I'm still hungry."
  • "I'm starving, but nothing in the world at all is edible."

Okay, so maybe some of those are made up (or maybe they're not). But, truth be told, none of these pickles are detrimental or unsolvable, and because your Mom is so funny about it, I have no problem offering my hand at helping her out of these pickles whenever I can.

Now when we get to a real pickle like "I want to paint my toenails but I can't seem to find my toes," then we might run into a little bitmore of a problem!