Smelling the onion, and everything else within a half mile of me.

It is fantastic and ridiculous how much difference a lentil sized baby can make in my overall being. I am many-lentil-sized, and yet, this one particular lentil piece of me is dictating that I spend most of my day glued to the couch thinking about food. Not because I’m hungry, mind you, but because it takes the hours leading up to a meal time for me to come up with *anything* that sounds…not appetizing, really, just not vomit-inducing. So far, he likes bananas with peanut butter for breakfast pretty consistently. Lunch is a crap shoot. Today, cheese and a triscut. Yesterday super nachos with shredded chicken– and fresh fried mini donuts rolled in cinnamon and sugar. The silver bullet from my first pregnancy– coke– is a no go. Vegetable beef soup sounds good, but cutting up raw meat does not.

In case anyone wonders (and because I have recently been asked), yes, it is completely, definitely, 100% worth it. Even when the puking starts.