I was singing this song at the top of my lungs with Rufus and dancing with my girls and it made me think of my pregnancy. I know I must have mentioned my love for chocolate milk here before. That love was only intensified while pregnant. But did I ever mention that during my pregnancy with the twins I craved cigarettes? It’s true.
I’ve never smoked even one cigarette in my life. I had a couple boyfriends in high school that smoked and that’s the extent of my smoking experience. But you wouldn’t think so if you were in my body while I was preggers with dos bambinas. During previous pregnancies I was very put out with the whole smoking thing. I was very hormonal about it and took it personally any time I came upon someone whose smoke was getting in my personal breathing space. However, this time around, not only was I having dreams (DREAMS!) that I was hanging out of windows taking long, deep drags, but in reality when I walked out of a grocery store and smelled cigarette smoke, instinctively I started breathing deeply and walking toward the source.
What?
I kid you not, my friends.
Not only that, but listen to this part. At some point during the pregnancy I got a cheap changing table and spray painted it. I don’t know what happened during that makeover, but for the rest of my pregnancy I daydreamed about spray painting something. My husband watched out for me and insisted that he do the touch up spray paint on said changing table and I pretended that I was grateful. Meanwhile I was white knuckling the counter top trying to control my desire to run to the garage and breathe in the fumes.
I remember a friend telling me once that she had great desires to lick granite and suck on stones while pregnant. Rocks. They seem like a harmless thing to crave.
