23 weeks pregnant. The pregnancy books say to stay active and eat well. I’m walking 3 to 5 miles a day and I’m friends with carrots again. I’m also able to read about food.

For the past four months I’ve stayed away from photos of food on Facebook, the prepared foods section of the grocery store and all nutrition chapters in pregnancy books. The other day when it was just my squatty potty and me, a pregnancy food chapter sucked me in. It compared how the same food can be good for you or not depending on how it’s prepared.

I didn’t need a book to tell me this. Plain bread is ok. Bread with a lot of butter or mayonnaise is better.

The book recommends a boneless, skinless chicken breast as opposed to fried chicken. I describe to Captain what I read and sigh,

“Now all I want is some fried chicken.”

“I don’t think that was the purpose of the book.”

It’s not my fault they’re throwing around tasty words like ‘fried’ and ‘chocolate’ in front of a pregnant woman.

I download a prenatal yoga video. For 20 minutes I laze on the couch and stuff M&Ms in my face while a woman in downward dog tells me to breath. This may not be the most effective use of this video.

I could do this, minus the tomatoes.

But this is what I’m talking about.