My Baby, Tater

Pregnancy is filled with more weirdness than should be allowed in one body, in one nine-month period of time. You've got your weird dreams, your weird emotions, that weird exorcist-type tummy dance that begins sometime in the second trimester, weird goings-on with every single part of your body and certainly weird cravings. With Ruth I craved corndogs-- especially from Sonic--and oddly I didn't like corndogs one bit before I got pregnant or after she was born. She loves them and always has. With Weston I really craved salad at the beginning. And now I've got this baked potato (with butter and cheese) fetish that just won't stop. Wendy's has become a favorite stop because they offer baked potatoes instead of fries with any combo meal. Thank you, Dave Thomas! Tonight we had steak and potatoes at my parents' house, and every bite of potato was like a little bite of happiness. It's weird and I can't explain it, but one of my pregnancy philosophies is to indulge and enjoy these things in these nine months, when I don't have to feel guilty about it. I'll worry about it sometime after mid-January, when my little "Tater" has had his/her fill.