For the first time all week I have arrived at mid-morning and not felt the constant urge to vomit so, all things considered, I've declared this a good day. In fact, to coincide with my dog entry, my prime, canine-like craving thus far has been for red meat. Previously I must admit I thought the whole idea of pregnant women craving certain foods was, frankly, a load of bull. A carte blanche allowing them to devour whole tubs of Ben & Jerry's with impunity because "the baby needs calcium". But perhaps there is a crumb of validity to this argument: can a craving be another way of your body telling you what it isn't getting enough of?
I'm no tofu lover by any stretch. My pre-preggers diet predominantly consisted of fish and poultry and yet lately I can't seem to get enough M-E-A-T. Pork, mainly, which is funny because normally I'm not much of a fan. But then pregnancy does funny things to both your brain and your body. The sight of pork pies at work last week got me hot and bothered. And even as the grease and fat was oozing onto my napkin, I knew a single pie was just not going to be enough. Shamefully, when no one was looking, I went back for more. On Valentines, it was posh pork ribs in a chilli bourbon sauce followed by slow-roasted belly of pork... Hmmmm... Then on the weekend, it was sausage rolls and more sausage rolls, then these honey mustard sausages again last night. Mr Green is hardly complaining because men tend to like meat.
If I stop and think about it rationally, as far as cravings go it's pretty damn gross. But at the moment rational doesn't even figure. Right now I am a prisoner to my body's whims and follies. And, after all, the baby needs protein, right?