You know how sometimes you REALLY want to be wrong about something? I REALLY want to be wrong about something. To describe why I want to be wrong, I have to go back in time about eight years.
Eight years ago at this time, I couldn't stand junk food. AT ALL. I went from considering ice cream, french fries, and pizza food groups to gagging when I ate a honey graham cracker because OMG TOO SWEET BLECH.
It sucked.
Hard.
For nine solid months, everything I loved about food was wrong. My world was turned upside down as candy made me sick, french fries tasted disgusting, and just back away with your Taco Bell anything because PUKE.
And then Alexis was born.
*POOF!*
Suddenly, my love for junk food returned. My aversion to junk was all her fault. CLEARLY. She had taken over my sensibilities and taste buds while in the womb, but I took them right back again.
Fast forward a year or two, and you'll note that the kid was the first I'd ever met who couldn't be bribed with a M&M because she swore they were "yucky" and "too sweet" and HOW IS SHE MY KID?
It doesn't make any sense, but maybe it does. For as long as she was on board, she forced me into her healthy food preferences, but then she took that with her. Which, HOORAY! It's so nice having a friendly relationship with ice cream again.
Fast forward seven years or so to today and GIVE ME THE JUNK. ALL OF IT. MORE THAN EVER. Like, really, junk food is so my friend. Got any Halloween candy left? Because I can take care of that. How about some french fries? Taco Bell anything? DO YOU HAVE ICE CREAM? DO YOU?
Screw your soups and salads and veggie sandwiches. While they were required just five short months ago because I really do believe in balance, MEH. I don't need them now.
If this means that the next tiny person is going to be a lover of junk food, I am in *so* much trouble. SO MUCH.
I better be wrong about my theory that what you eat while pregnant is what the kid eats later. Ain't no way there can be someone who loves junk food more than me in this house.