These are seriously teensy tags measuring only about 1.5x 2 inches. Good for gift giving. Cosmo Cricket “Oh Joy” papers and chipboard, Making Memories stamps and various bits of trim.

I usually don’t crave any one food consistently during pregnancy. It is more of a what sounds good in the moment affliction, and though a few things have stayed pretty well constant, I’m usually as fickle as they come. My last two pregnancies being the exercises in misery that they were, and the first several months of this gestation following suite, there weren’t a lot of cravings. Any question of, “what would you like to eat,” was answered after much thought, not on what might stay down, but contemplation on what would be the least repellant on its way back up. Bland cereal? Ok. Tuna fish sandwich? Not so much.

I did have one craving with both Maggie and Jonas that was unbelievably powerful. Come the second half of each pregnancy I developed a craving for powdered laundry detergent. (For those of you thinking, uhhh, that’s not food- I know). Craving non food items is a condition known as pica, and apparently it is not that uncommon. Dirt is another popular pica craving; I had a great-grandmother who craved the burnt end of matchsticks. Science tells us that these pica cravings are an indication of the mother being nutritionally deficient. After several months of hyperemesis gravidarum, I’m inclined to agree. Starving does tend to lead to malnourishment. With Jonas, I would sit on my couch with my box of laundry soap and literally salivate with my head inside the box. I wanted the flavor, the texture- everything about it seemed utterly desirable, except for the little voice in the back of my head telling me that I was completely nuts.

When I was expecting Maggie, it was the same thing. I would put my hands into the soap and rub it around and then smell them. I fantasied about licking my fingers and feeling the grit on my teeth. Finally, at about six months pregnant I decided that enough was enough, and if I had to taste it and make myself throw up to get over this insane craving- I would do it. No matter how good it appeared, soap would have to gross me out when actually eaten, right?

Apparently not. I ate soap and liked it. In fact, I was ready to go back for a second spoonful! Now, the reasonable person in my brain, who, at this point was clearly locked in the far corner of my brain in a straightjacket, managed to yell loud enough to remind me that there was bleach in that soap, and that eating it was hazardous to my health. I double checked the label to make sure, and that is when I saw that baking soda was also an ingredient.

Baking soda, I mused. That’s in cookies. I could eat some. Within in minutes I had snarfed at least eight full spoonfuls of straight baking soda. IT. WAS. SO. GOOD. The next day I bought myself a few fresh boxes, and for the remainder of the pregnancy, and even a few weeks after I had a small spoonful at least once daily. It kept me out of the laundry detergent and kept me satisfied.

It just dawned on me today that I don’t crave baking soda or laundry detergent this pregnancy. My guess is that this is because I am basking in the glow of being able to eat actual food, and I am probably much healthier for it. I will admit that both do sound pretty good, but neither is an actual can’t-stop-thinking-about-it craving.

This is the first time that I have been pregnant and actually hungry. It is very strange to me to suddenly fit the pregnant lady stereotype so completely. Every aspect of my life is now governed by two main streams of thought: “When can I eat” and “When can I pee”. I am hungry. Very, very hungry.

Now, I’ve been hungry like this before, but only when breast feeding. My usual baby routine involves about eight months of starvation followed by a year or more of total gluttony, so this is weird I crave one thing when nursing: CHOCOLATE.

This chocolate craving was especially bad when I was nursing Jonas, so bad, in fact, that I distinctly remember a conversation I had with Chris on the phone one day where I think I actually said, “If you forget to pick up my chocolate, don’t come home.” Yes, I’m nice. My grandfather in-law, hearing this demand took me to his office closet and introduced me to his personal stash of junk food, a haven of wholesale sized boxes of Snickers bars and various other indulgences. It was then I knew I truly loved that man, because my own grandfather who had passed a few years prior had also had a secret stash (bottom dresser drawer, all the Hershey bars you could eat). It is that kind of sharing that really leads you to believe that these are good people you’re dealing with. That, or I can be bought off very cheaply.

This constant need to eat does have me a little concerned when it comes to weight gain. I do not own a scale on the grounds that it rarely makes me feel good about myself, and I haven’t been to see my doctor in about two months now, so I have no idea how much I’ve gained. I am assuming it isn’t too scary because my pants still fit. Yes, they are maternity pants, but I figure if things were really out of control, I’d need to size up, and so far my thighs are as they always were.

The first several months of this pregnancy I was chewed out for losing weight and then for not gaining any back. The first time I came in having actually gained one pound the doctor and nurses got all excited until I confessed to having just eaten an entire footlong sub about ten minute prior to my appointment. That kind of sub tends to get launched away a few hours later, so they stopped being so joyful. I have a feeling that people will be very jazzed when I have my next appointment in a week, so jazzed that I may actually be lectured on the virtues of vegetables and taking the occasional walk. We shall see. For now, I plan on eating whatever sounds good at whatever time of day it strikes my fancy. I’ll lose weight later and find joy in the fact that I’m pregnant and capable of eating!