For some reason last night, P and I got to talking about pregnancy cravings.
Oh, I remember. He planned pizza with the kids and I can’t eat pizza, so I needed to go out and get something for myself. This is where menu planning fails miserably — when the one planning the menu forgets that the one not planning the menu is not able to eat dairy anymore. And no, we’re not sure why.
Anyway, we were talking food cravings and it was weird because there was one specific food for each kid. With Ben it was Shrimp Scampi pizza from California Pizza Kitchen. Yes, the one they did away with because, supposedly, people don’t like shrimp on their pizza. I literally ate a pizza every two days for a month. I couldn’t eat anything else. It was lunch and dinner. Breakfast was crackers or dry toast.
Poor Katie, though. She? Was a Big Mac, fries, and a coke. Yes, I was allowed to have caffeine, my doctor says the study isn’t convincing and the good outweighed the bad since I was also having daily migraines thanks to the increased estrogen in my system. Here’s what’s weird. I can’t eat Big Macs. I’ve never been able to; they make me sick. Always have. I suspect it’s the special sauce, but I don’t know for sure. It could also be partially psychological because my grandmother absolutely hated McDonalds and transmitted that hatred to at least one of her granddaughters. I think it was the onions on the burgers and, if so, very likely that my sibling does not eat there given that she doesn’t like onions.
Anyway, I called P one day and said I had to have one. He reminded me how sick they make me, but I persisted, so he brought me one. And I ate it. And there were no ill effects whatsoever. Not one.
And then I ate a Big Mac every day or two for a couple of months.
So, after the birth disaster, we get home, P, in a desperate attempt to make me feel better goes to get me a Big Mac, Fries, and a Coke. Guess what? Sick as a dog.
What’s really interesting about this, to me, is that of the two kids, Katie is by far the more adventurous eater. She will try most anything, though until yesterday, her only beverage was milk. Yesterday, she drank juice. And enjoyed it. Ben would live on spaghetti (buttered) if we’d let him.
I don’t know why I wanted to write about this today, but I did, so I decided to do it.