Notorius P.I.G.

I love it when they call me big mama...wait - no, I don't. But am going to start resembling Biggie Smalls, if I don't keep my cravings under control.

I start out OK. Actually, I start out great! Like a seasoned Olympic gold-medalist, I prepare myself cereal, grapefruit, yogurt, trail mix, and dried fruit, all in 2 hr increments to keep my blood sugar in line and the nausea to a minimum. Later, I'm out making a routine bank deposit and then - BAM - the next thing you know I've devoured a big mac and a milkshake before I even make it out of the drive-thru parking lot. It's shameful. And something tells me if I keep it up, my baby's going to pop out looking like Baby Sinclair ("I'm the baby, gotta love me").

Hopefully, this crappy fast food won't appeal to me during my two remaining trimesters. In the meantime, I'm going to have to buy a maternity band so I can unbutton that top button and still remain inconspicuous.