Get In My Belly!

Well, hello strangers! Sorry that the posting has been so light lately. Micah’s awake a lot more these days so we’ve been playing a lot, and we’ve been watching the debates, and… ok, who am I kidding: I’ve been busy eating my weight in food. It’s hard to hold Micah in one arm, type with my free hand, and shove copious amounts of food in my gaping maw all at the same time, so the blogging has taken a back seat to the mom-ing and the pigging out. Not necessarily in that order. I’m not sure what happened, but my body just kicked it into a new gear and my life is suddenly focused on food. Food for me, and in turn food for Micah. If I’m not feeding him, I’m feeding me. I’m a bagel away from turning into the giant hungry plant in Little Shop of Horrors.

The earth mamas in my yoga class talk about an undying breastfeeding hunger and an insatiable thirst, and I guess that’s what this is. At least, let’s chalk it up to that unless I start packing on the lbs and have to put my prego jeans back on again or join The Biggest Loser. So it’s not my fault, it’s my boobs’ fault. They’re hungry and I can’t seem to feed them fast enough.

I’m so, so hungry. Embarrassingly hungry. I wake up hungry and wolf down breakfast, and before I’m even done with it, I’m thinking of a snack or what I’ll have for lunch. Or something to cleanse my palette with after what I just ate. Brownies are excellent palette-cleansers. After which I want something salty. And then to get the salty taste out of my mouth, another hit of sweet. Internet, isn’t that CRAZY? It totally is! It’s a cycle of snacking that I cannot manage to break! I’m a snack junkie itching for my next fix! And not only can I keep up with what David eats, I’m starting to put him to shame. There’s gotta be nothing sexier than being out-eaten by your wife who can put back a heaping plate of food and while you’re groaning on the couch clutching your belly, she's sniffing around for dessert.

I think my body is making up for my lack of fun cravings during my pregnancy. The few cravings I had were really specific things (hello, hot fudge sundae!) but now, now I’m just endlessly hungry and endlessly unsatisfied with whatever I eat. It’s like a laser beam versus a lighthouse: while I was pregnant if I craved something I wanted only that and nothing would be a good substitute. Now I want everything and nothing at the same time. Most of the time I want something we don’t have, or something I know would be insane to eat by myself, like an entire chocolate cake. Don’t worry, I haven’t had the balls to do that. Yet. But if I do, blame the boobs. The hungry boobs made me do it, and they’ll enjoy every.single.bite. Mmm!