Veggie Tales

At no time in my life have I been bombarded with more “old wives’ tales” than I am now.

“If you crave pickles, it’s a boy; sweets, it’s a girl.”
“If you have heartburn, the baby will have a lot of hair.”
“If you drink coffee, the baby will have brown birthmarks.”

So I can’t help but wonder whatever happened to this oldie but goodie: “You are what you eat.”

I think it’s absolutely true when it comes to growing a baby – after all, I’m the only nutrient, calorie, and blueberry provider for my child right now.

And I am probably going to give birth to a 6-inch veggie on wheat, hold the jalapenos and mustard, extra red wine vinegar Subway sandwich.

With Baked Lay’s.

Seriously, I eat this every single day. During a recent traveling day, I actually stopped at Subway three times – breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This yummy-smelling restaurant chain is one of the only places I can find that caters to my two huge prego aversions – fried food and meat.

I don’t care that it’s cookie-cutter. I don’t mind if it’s super crowded across the street from campus at 12 p.m. If my sandwich artist is ruder than Mariah Carey on a bad hair day, I have zero problems with that.

I just really love those whimsical little circles of banana peppery goodness, surrounded by airy wisps of bright carrots stuffed between fresh, yummy bread. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.

But I dare you to take it away.

Also on the list are gala apples, egg whites, and whole wheat anything. I swear I’ve never eaten this healthy in my life…with one exception.

You know those really gross-looking beef sticks with artificial, no-refrigeration-necessary cheddar on the shelf of your local gas station?

Let’s just hope the baby is a veggie sub.