Give Me A Straw And Find Me A Cow

I am craving milk. Regular milk. Chocolate milk. Milkshakes. Can't get enough. I never drink milk, with the exception of in my morning breakfast cereal. But you would never find me making a special trip into the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning for a tall glass. This child is going to have the strongest bones around.

Ken's disappointed. He was hoping that I would have pizza or spaghetti cravings, just so he would have an excuse to pig out with me. Occasionally, I'll have a craving for Swedish Fish, those gummy fish-shaped candies. He likes those cravings. But when I head into the kitchen and take out the milk, ice and frozen fruit and plug in the blender, he knows it's going to be a boring night.

And on the subject of cows, did I tell you I'm fat? I didn't really realize it until this weekend when I got dressed to go out to dinner, walked by a floor length mirror and was shocked. Ken asked what was wrong.

"Look at me. From the side, I almost take up the width of the mirror."
"Um, I think you're exaggerating just a bit."
"I'm fat."
"No, Jodi. You're almost six months pregnant."
"It's fat."
"It's a baby."

I love being pregnant. Don't get me wrong. I have enjoyed the entire process, from beginning (wink, wink) to now, and continuing. I just never thought I would have such a weird body image. I see pregnant women all the time and never consider them to be fat. Do they see the same when they look at me? Probably not, but then again... they could see themselves as fat when they look in their own mirrors.

I'm also discovering how much I'm freaking out about everything again. It comes and it goes. The newest episode comes in realizing that I'm well over the halfway point and that this baby will be entering the world in less amount of time then the number of weeks I've been pregnant. I remember last fall when we were asked when we were going to start looking at decor and thinking about paint and carpet. "After the first of the year," was always the canned response, knowing that there was plenty of time to think about it. And now that the first of the year has come and gone, it's overwhelming (yeah, I know I use that term a lot in these posts) to know that we've picked out a name (don't ask, not telling until she's here), decor, paint, and carpeting and I feel like there's not enough time to consider swings, highchairs, and strollers. But atleast it takes my mind off the outrageously ridiculous cost of daycare.