It's Official

Today I am calling it official... I have a tween.

*sniff sniff* It's brings a tear to my eye.

Here's how I knew it was time:

1) He is obsessed with doing his hair and how his hair looks

2) The phone is practically glued to his ear

3) He has the teenage eye roll down to a pat

4) He still likes to play with decidedly un-teenage toys

5) He started looking for books to read in the "Teen" section at the library

6) Loosing teeth is still pretty cool, but he doesn't believe in or expect money from the tooth fairy

7) He can sit by himself AND behave in church (trust me I was expecting a Huck Finn move)

8) When we go out to eat, sometimes he orders off the kids menu and sometimes the adult one

9) He is now officially tall enough and mature enough NOT to sit in a boost seat in the car anymore

... and well I can't think of number 10... so 9 reasons it is.

Not Friends

We're not friends anymore.

Me and food that is.

Early on in this pregnancy food and I were pretty good friends.  I would have a craving, eat it and move along my merry little way.

Then around the 6 (or was it 8 week mark - my memory is a little foggy with the baby choking out my brain) I started getting that dreaded morning sickness.

This morning sickness has lead to a general aversion of food.

Which doesn't help because that just makes the morning sickness worse - not eating.  I have no idea how women of the 40s, 50s and 60s ever survived pregnancy on the advice to "watch how much you gain".  It must have been all the smokes and cocktails.

Some days I wake up and just can't eat.  Nothing sounds edible.  But I try and make the most of it.  Until every suddenly feels and tastes like wet sand in my mouth.

And then I have a craving, and I can't eat anything until that craving is taken care of.  And it's not like the cravings stick around so I can stock up on peanut-butter or ice cream or something.  Cravings are fleeting.  They are mean.  Friends are not mean.

I try to eat, and some days are better than others... but most days are not.

Food laughs at me.  It mocks me.  It says "If you don't eat me you will feel like vomiting".  It is right.  But it always laughs and says "Go ahead and try to eat me, you won't be able to muscle down a bite."

Many days I wonder if this is what it feels like to be battling an eating disorder.

And then something smells off, and everything I ate threatens to come back up.  Or I hiccup,or sneeze... and the same thing happens.

Food is not my friend.

Sigh... I certainly hope this doesn't make for a picky baby.