I don't even like this in real life!

I have always been a picky eater. When I was little, my parents quickly caught on to my strategy of spreading the food out across my plate to make it look like I head eaten more than I actually had. As you can see in this picture, though, I stood my ground, even when it meant I couldn’t leave the table until I had eaten.

I think I made my point.

As an adult, no one forces me to eat that stuff anymore and I am IN.CONTROL. I was going to list all of the foods I don’t like, but that became too much of an undertaking, so I will just give you a few of my most hated things:

·         Coconut-This is my ultimate hate. I don’t care how much you think you’ve hidden it, I will taste it in there.

·         Pineapple-Ew, it’s stringy.

·         Oranges-Ew, when you peel them, they look like they are covered in the same film babies are born covered in, which I have recently learned has a name, vernix.

·         Meat on the bone-I’m looking at you, 300+ pound guy gnawing on a turkey leg at Six Flags. You’re ruining it for all of us.

·         Celery-This tastes like crunchy dirt water. And the strings, oh the strings.

·         Gelatin of any sort-I don’t feel like I have to justify this.

·         Milk and any milk product, with the exception of cheese. I somehow love cheese.

I think I was raised this way. Picky eating runs in the family, as you can see from Granddad’s and Uncle Dale’s expressions in these picture from our wedding reception in Mexico.

I don’t remember what that meat was (it was Mexico and our choices were kind of limited), but they were not impressed.

So imagine my surprise when all of a sudden during pregnancy, I like things I have never liked before, like:

·         PB&J (See gelatin above.)

·         Cheese Puffs (There is nothing real in these. From the fake orange color to the fake cheese flavor, these are creepy. My mom sneaks these for breakfast sometimes, though, so maybe this is hereditary.)

·         Ice cream (I didn’t hate ice cream, I just never craved it. And now I love it and want it daily.)

Before eating these things, I like to give the disclaimer, “In real life, I don’t even like this!” but Josh keeps reminding me that this is my real life now. And that’s terrifying.