Four Degrees of Burritos

Food.  It’s something that most pregs either love or hate.  Usually, you kind of hate it during the first trimester (never had that problem) and maybe a little bit in the second (still never had that problem) and by the third, you love it.  Even as a non-preg, I have always loved food, so the relationship with food only deepens when I’m also growing a tiny person inside my uterus.  It’s Friday night; I’m a 30-week preg mom of an almost two-year-old (read: I am clearly a crazy person).  Now seems like a good time to talk about how my brain works in terms of food relationship.
I’m sure you’ve heard of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon (a play on Six Degrees of Separation) in which any person can be connected to Kevin Bacon in six degrees or less.  Don’t believe me?  Go to your google machine and search any celebrity’s name with the phrase “bacon number” and you’ll see what I mean.
Results straight from the Googlemachine:
“Vince Vaughn Bacon Number”
Vince Vaughn’s Bacon number is 2
“Steven Spielberg Bacon Number
Steven Spielberg’s Bacon number is 2
“Joe Biden Bacon Number”
Joe Biden’s Bacon number is 2
“Queen Elizabeth II Bacon Number”
Elizabeth II’s Bacon number is 2
My own personal Bacon Number is 3.  In the 90s, my husband met Matt Dillon in NYC; Matt Dillon was in “Wild Things” with Bacon.  This makes my husband’s Bacon Number 2, and as his wife, my Bacon Number would be 3.  Just by knowing me, your Bacon Number is 4!  Feel special and famous?  You should.  And you can thank me later for sending you on the enormous time-suck that is googling Bacon Numbers.
So, food.  With pregs, food sort of works like a Bacon Number.
Earlier this week I needed to replace the garbage bag in our kitchen trashcan.  I opened the new box of bags my husband purchased, only to find that he had purchased vanilla scented.  After inhaling the scent of vanilla, I then needed a cupcake.  Luckily we had cupcakes because HELLO I’M PREGNANT.  So that’s like three degrees of separation:
  1. Need to replace garbage bag.
  2. Open new box of bags; smell vanilla.
  3. Eat cupcake. 
A few nights ago, we decided to watch something on our OnDemand (Alaskan Bush People…do you watch this?  YOU SHOULD.)  Evan pushed the OnDemand button, and Comcast’s superior technology took us to QVC’s channel.  And so began FOUR DEGREES OF BURRITOS:


  1. QVC makes me think of Lori from Shark Tank.
  2. Every Friday night, we watch Shark Tank.
  3. Every Friday night, we get take-out from Moe’s.
There’s your small glimpse into the mind of a third trimester preg.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, a burrito is calling my name. (Also, all this talk about Bacon makes me hungry).
Always hungry,
Greatest Bacon film, ever.

Greatest Bacon film, ever.

Five Things to Avoid Googling While Pregnant

One would assume that because this is our second pregnancy, I’ve run out of things to research/google/obsess over.  Well, you’d be wrong.  Having a toddler means that all of the super pregnancy smarts and knowledge you gained the first time around have been replaced by songs about monkeys eating all of their vegetables (EVEN THE GREEN ONES).  Sometimes I have a legitimate question, but most of the time I’m just googling things that come from random musings that dance across my semi-awake frontal lobe.  I’ve found that there are three types of information available to pregs via Dr. Google: informative, hilarious and terrifying.  And now I present…

Five Things to Avoid Googling While Pregnant (aka “How Not to Scare the Shit Out of Yourself”)

Is (insert favorite food item) safe to eat?  Even if your favorite food is stupid kale, I can 110% guarantee you that somewhere on the vast internet, there is an article or blog post that will tell you said food is not only unsafe, but that even accidentally consuming .000001 ounces of the food will cause your baby to be born with the ability to speak only Swahili.  We all know the primary foods to avoid eating (delicious things like sushi, all cold cuts [I MISS SALAMI SO MUCH], soft cheeses and fish high in mercury) but every once in a while, you’ll read a comment on some BabyCenter message board that will tell you to avoid things like soft serve ice cream (because OMG when was the last time the machine was taken apart and waaaashed?!)  Really?  A preg, avoiding soft serve ice cream?  GTFO.  If you like food, stay off the google engine.

Is (insert favorite activity) safe to do?  Similar to avoiding all foods while preg, there are people who will tell you to avoid doing all things while preg.  Listen, I’m more than happy to avoid doing things like folding laundry, cleaning up cat puke, and washing dishes, so if the Hypno Baby Wizard website tells me not to do those things, I can legit show my husband the documentation proving he is responsible for 90% more household chores right now.  I know not to scoop the cat litter box and to avoid doing things like CrossFit (LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL), but did you also know you’re supposed to avoid things like warm showers, lifting objects over 15lbs and sleeping on your right side?  Oh, you didn’t?  Well you must not have made it to page 17 of the google search results; if you had, you’d know these important things.  So, feel free to be smelly (because cold showers are dumb), never pick up your toddler/groceries/obese cat, and forget ever being comfortable while sleeping for the next 47 weeks.

What is this funny feeling in my upper/lower right/left abdomen?  If you have a funny feeling, it’s probably gas.  Oh, the pain is in your ribs?  It’s still gas.  Lower back pain?  GAS.  Pregs, you have a lot of gas, don’t try to ignore it.  Set it free.  If it’s not gas, then it’s probably your sweet little baby squeezing a precious and vital internal organ.  Never, ever, ever google the words “feeling ____ while pregnant” because Dr. Google will tell you that you have something like West Nile Virus or Chinkungaya Disease, or that you were secretly abducted and probed by aliens during the night and GUESS WHAT, NOW YOU’RE HAVING TWINS!  You probably ate soft serve ice cream while laying on your right side, right?  That explains everything.

Images of anything, ever.  When I announced our second pregnancy, an acquaintance immediately asked if knew I was preg before taking the test.  Before I could answer, she said I must have known, and it was probably my nipples that gave it away.  Really?  My nipples?  Would pregnancy give them the ability to speak?  I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, because I’d been pregnant before and my nipples didn’t hold the secret baby knowledge.  So I decided to google what she meant and OH MY GOSH, I regret that.  Do you know what happens when you google things like “pregnant nipples”?  You’ll be scarred for life, because only the worst and most frightening things that could ever happen to nipples will show up in google images.  And former pregs who did have nipples that looked like space saucers preparing for landing, I am so sorry.  SO SORRY.

Things like “sex while pregnant.”  Pregs can totally still do it (no, the baby won’t get poked in the head), but sometimes you have to get creative because after a few months, there’s an enormous watermelon between you and your partner.  You should be very careful in your google phrasing; WebMD has good articles with suggestions and tips, and what’s normal (i.e. “tingling sensation in my left third rib”) but if you don’t quantify your search with something like “pregnant sex webmd article” well, you’re going to find out there are a lot of weirdos out there.  A LOT.  It’s more frightening than the space saucer nipples.  It will also probably get your name added to some Federal list.  Oops.

Pregs, if you want to enjoy your 40ish weeks of growing life and eating cheese fries covered in Nutella, then stay off the google engine.  As long as you aren’t bungee jumping while smoking a pack of American Spirits and eating raw chicken, you’re probably doing just fine.  Common sense tells you what is and isn’t safe, and for those questionable things, your midwife or OB will give you a list – a physician approved list – of things you should avoid eating and doing.  Follow that list and your gut, and you’ll be fine.  Particularly follow your gut if it’s telling you the baby needs brownies.  Chocolate boosts mental stamina.



And as a reminder, I’ll just leave this right here:

Brownies 4Lyfe,


Inappropriate Questions at 15 Weeks

Because announcing your pregnancy suddenly invites people, even especially strangers, to speak whatever thoughts that happen to ramble through their unfiltered minds, I thought it would be worth sharing with you all the best I’ve heard to date (because trust, we still have a looong way to go and many, many more “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE THAT BABY?!” questions to come).  Most of the time, it’s a question…sometimes it’s just a statement.  Parents and pregs, you’ll sympathize; non-parents and never-pregs, now you’ll know that someone asking the size of your waistline isn’t really the most inappropriate thing you’ve heard all day.
“Was this planned?!”  So it’s our second pregnancy, and our son will turn two about a week before the current bun baking will be due.  I get it; some of you wait longer to have your second child, but not everyone does.  But for some reason, lots of people feel the need to ask if this was our plan.  Based on our prior success in procreation, one would think it should be simple to come to the conclusion that we are clearly aware of what could happen when we have sex (TMI? THEN DON’T ASK THE QUESTION.)  But what you should really know is that when you ask questions like that, you’re really implying that this child was an accident, and that’s really not nice.  Respect that some pregnancies are planned and some are not, but that children are awesome regardless of the circumstances which brought them into this world.  Just because it’s not what you would do, doesn’t mean it’s not perfect timing for another couple.  (spoiler alert: you’re not the one carrying the kid, so don’t worry about it.)
Along the lines of “Was this planned?!” I have also been asked if we are just “really busy” (yes, they meant exactly what you’re thinking).  So you should know that if you ask a question like that, not only is it inappropriate, but it concerns me that you’re thinking that hard about what goes on behind our bedroom doors (it’s awesome, so you can stop wondering now).
“So, did you know you were pregnant before you took the test?”  Lots of folks have also asked if I knew I was pregnant before I took the test, and that’s really not an inappropriate question.  What is inappropriate is some of the conversation that takes place after I tell them that yes, I did in fact know I was pregnant before I peed on the stick and saw two pink lines.  Here’s an example of an actual conversation that occurred after that question:
Friend: “So, did you know you were pregnant before you took the test?”
Me: “Yes!  I had this funny feeling…”
Me: “…”
We can totally talk about how I absolutely positively knew I was pregnant 17 minutes after conception occurred, but please, don’t talk about my nipples.  Don’t ask about them, don’t question them, don’t think about them, and certainly don’t give me a detailed comparison to your own nipples.  While having nipples is something we do have in common, I’d rather not discuss them.
“So did you guys try for a girl this time?”  After the accident talk and the nipple talk, this is another question I’m frequently asked.  I don’t really know how to answer that.  We didn’t find out what we were having when we were pregnant with Miles, and we won’t find out this time, either.  And while I’m sure folks mean well, it just sounds a lot like, “boys are cool and all but you should really want a girl.”  I’m positive that if we already had a girl, the preferred gender by inquiring minds would be a boy.  Just know that we didn’t try for anything; we are truly just happy to have been blessed with a healthy pregnancy so far.  Even if a couple does hope for a particular gender while pregnant, I wouldn’t want to share that information, because I know some of you would assume disappointment if they found out they were having the opposite of what they hoped for.  And that would just open up more inappropriate comments from some of you, right?
Belly touching.  Time to address a very, very appropriate question.  Don’t touch a preg’s belly without asking.  If I refuse to let you grope me, you’ll have to accept it and move on.  Don’t pout.  Also, don’t be a weirdo.  I remember having enough random strangers wanting to touch my belly when I was pregnant with Miles; my crazy preg hormones can no longer tolerate such invasive behavior.  If you touch my belly, I’ll stick my finger up your nose.
“How are you going to…?”  Every preg gets a lot of questions about how they will parent.  These questions are fine as long as the intention behind them is well-meaning.  But there are some of you (and you know who you are) who will ask the questions like, “Are you going to breastfeed?” and “Are you going to co-sleep?” with an anticipated argument of this vs. that, and that is inappropriate.  Every parent has choices that they make; those choices are what is best for their family, and only they know what works and what doesn’t.  I have another post entirely dedicated to this topic, but trust for now, while I’m more than happy to talk about this stuff, it’s for a respectful, safe and non-judgmental conversation.  And I am fully aware that sentence has “namaste” and “therapy” written all over it.  SAFE SPACE, PEOPLE.  
Now of all the questions I’m asked, my favorite is always, “ARE YOU GOING TO EAT ALL THAT?!”  Yes, I am.  Pregs are responsible for growing life for 40+ weeks.  So when you see me sit down with a brownie sundae covered in hot fudge, marshmallows, sprinkles and Cheetos, don’t hate.  Because you totally would if you could.  
Should say "7 1/2 minutes..."

Should say “7 1/2 minutes…”

Now, anyone want to talk about belching?  I’m game.  
Still hungry,
Preg K

Things My Toddler Likes to Eat

It’s been quite a while, right?  Eleven days.  ELEVEN DAYS WITHOUT ME!  I know my incredibly wide and devoted reading audience noticed, wink wink nod nod.  So where have I been?


Happy Bunny


First Birthday!

Notice me restraining him from the lure of fire.

The Zoo!


The Stomach Flu.

This is an accurate depiction of what my stomach felt like for six days. SIX DAYS.

First Birthday Party!

“What, am I supposed to do tricks now?”

Suffice to say, it’s been a busy almost two weeks.  Also, I don’t get paid to do this.  Unless you’d like to pay me, in which case I’ll tell you where to send the check/unmarked bills/red wine/chocolate chip cookies that I view as acceptable forms of payment.  Until then, I did have to find time between the vomiting and partying and cupcakes and tigers to do work.  The kind of work that pays the mortgage, provides the benefits and (crosses fingers) gives me an early retirement HALLELUJAH.

Now that I’m sitting down on something other than the toilet, I thought it was time to catch up my writing.  Because of mombrain (this is a real WebMD diagnosis) I have eleventy million ideas in my head, and none on paper.  Until I can get something with some substance together (LOLOL) enjoy this brief list of things my child has discovered he enjoys eating over the past two weeks.

Things My Toddler Likes to Eat (right now…this could change next week)

  1. Spaghetti.  This is a big hit; it took a while to understand the concept of eating noodles as opposed to seeing what they would stick to when thrown, but once he finally stuck the food in his mouth, he loved it.
  2. Leaves.  Yes, he’s eaten leaves before, but now that he’s really mobile and outside play time is a daily event, we simply cannot get enough leaves in our diet.  Yay, fiber?
  3. Strawberries.  We’re 99% positive the outbreak of toddler spots was quite possibly the Honduran Melon Flu, and not an allergic reaction to strawberries.  BRING ON THE BERRIES.
  4. Blueberry Pancakes.  There’s nothing like enjoying a nice family breakfast on Sunday, then looking to your right and realizing you’re dining with Violet Beauregarde.


  5. Soap.  People keep telling me, “Oh, once he tries it for the first time, he’ll never eat it again.”  Well, these people have either a). Never met our (incredibly awesome) son or b). Never tasted Ivory soap.  Because, to toddlers, it’s like chocolate.
  6. Dryer Sheets.  Man, if you set a basket of laundry down in front of Miles, he’s diving in headfirst in search of the delicious dryer sheets hidden among the towels.

And, last but not least…


The cake-love gene is hereditary.

Back this week with more pointless rambling, promise.