The other night, after a particularly productive day of home decorating, cleaning and renovation, Scott and I kicked back on the couch around midnight to unwind before going to bed. Yeah… we stayed up until midnight. That hasn’t happened in… hmmm.. well, probably since the days of colic, and that was against our will.
Anyway, there’s not much on around midnight, and we didn’t want to tap into any good shows on the DVR, not knowing how long we’d be able to stay up. I was wielding the remote control when I happened upon The Vanilla Ice Project, a home renovation/landscaping show hosted by, you got it, the one and only Vanilla Ice.
We couldn’t NOT watch.
It was, actually, not *that* bad. Truthfully, the guy sounded pretty knowledgeable. He was a charismatic host. He was…. entertaining. We put down the remote and continued to watch as he tore out palm trees and bushes in front of a Florida mansion.
Then he started digging in the dirt, tying to uncover the source of a bulge in the driveway.
The dirt was moist, and looked soft and delicious.
“mmm… grainy, sandy, wet dirt… that sounds SO good… I could just eat it with a spoon,” I found myself thinking.
And then I SNAPPED OUT OF IT. Was I seriously craving dirt? Oh yes, I was. That dirt looked more delicious than a bowl of ice cream. And, upon further reflection, I remembered it wasn’t the first time in the last week I craved dirt. I saw mounds of it on the side of the road earlier in the week and briefly imagined the taste and texture of it on my tongue, much like one would when eyeing a piece of cheesecake on a dessert tray.
I also found that I suddenly came to like, very much, the texture of Tums. I’d been turned off by them in the past, choosing to soothe myself with the generic version instead, because they were too grainy, too sand-like. Now? Love the sandy texture. Love. it.
I turned to Scott as soon as I realized what was going on. “Uhm, that dirt looks delicious. Where are those iron supplements?”
He gave me a confused, holy shit look. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, serious. Like, I want to lick that shovel.”
So I ran off the bathroom and choked down a disgusting iron supplement, realizing this is probably a side effect of my low iron counts. I’ve been struggling with my iron count my whole pregnancy. I think it’s a big reason why I craved red meat (specifically BBQ beef sandwiches) so much. At my 28 week appointment I got the all clear on the gestational diabetes front, but was warned again about my iron being too low. I vowed to eat more red meat and leafy greens, and I swear, I’ve tried. Clearly, it’s not enough at this point, though.
So yeah, popping iron supplements, prenatals, and Zantac (for my insane heartburn) daily now. Here’s hoping the garden section at Lowes doesn’t look like a mouth watering buffet to me anymore.
Kendall is 2.5 and I’m 31 weeks pregnant