I never thought that I would hit the stage in pregnancy where trips to the fridge would out number the trips to the bathroom. This trimester is taking a lot of fuel to get through and I have been happily munching my way through it, well for the most part.
Pregnant women are always portrayed on television at two o’clock in the morning in front of an open fridge hammering away at leftovers and eating peanut butter out of the jar with their finger like they just won a battle on Survivor and had been starved living off of rations of rice, sand and banana leaves for the past month. I hadn’t had any crazy midnight cravings and Kevin hadn’t been sent on any midnight store runs. I thought I was pretty lucky, then the third trimester belly monster got me.
I already am a sleepwalker, well eater. This has caused me, Kevin and when I lived at home my family a lot of trouble. My entire life, since I could crawl I have been going places in my sleep and usually for food. The problem is I am like a sleep walking ninja so I am at the will of my sleepwalking psyche. I normally move stealthily through out the house to my gluttonous goal, devour it and then retreat back to sleep unknowing of my fourth meal until the morning. I am not a sleep cleaner. I usually leave little wrappers, food out on the counter or a trail of my midnight feast.
Unfortunately this habit has gotten the best of others and me throughout the years. Like the time I drank nail polish remover because I thought it was water in a bottle and my mom had to spend the night trying to explain my sleep drinking fiasco to the poison control operator who was convinced this was a cry for help. Or the time Kevin woke up covered in chocolate icing because utensils and sleep eating don’t mix and I apparently ate a good sized serving of left over birthday cake and left a good sized portion of it on my hand and crawled back into bed frosting my husband in his sleep.
Luckily pregnancy makes deep sleep nearly impossible and my sleep eating days had taken a 7 ½ month break. But those nights are gone, the third trimester has awoken the sleep-eating beast and she is back in action. There is just one big problem. Third trimester sleep eater meet third trimester heartburn. When I sleep eat I don’t eat normally. For example, my mom once caught me eating mint grasshopper cookies with (as in one on top of the other) nacho cheese Doritos (tasty, right?). These midnight munchies have now brought on another nightly episode, a 2 am husband mad dash for the tums.
A couple of nights ago my sleeping self was victim to a bag full of chocolate donuts, orange juice and spaghetti. Now I didn’t do anything crazy like mix them in to some sort of soup that you would see on Chopped (like that combo isn’t crazy enough) but once they mixed in my tummy they really didn’t agree. The two o’clock in the morning dash for tums turned into a flash back of the first trimester nightly night-sickness dash for the toilet.
In hopes of taming the sleep eating beast Kevin prepared a much blander, healthier, midnight snack of peanut butter crackers and left them on the dresser. He also made me switch sides on the bed and moved the dresser making a maze making so I would have to crawl over him in my sleep to get out of our room. Eight months pregnant, I am pretty sure even my ninja sleep walking skills would be challenged to maneuver over him.
This morning round one goes to Kevin. The dresser wasn’t flung with pregnancy strength across the room, Kevin and the pugs weren’t crushed in any attempt to get out of bed, I apparently took the bait of the peanut butter crackers since only crumbs remained and there wasn’t a two o’clock in the morning retaliatory strike run to the bathroom or for the tums.
So far so good. Now lets just hope night two goes just as well and lets all cross our fingers for Kevin that he isn’t crushed tonight or that he finds out what it is like to wake a pregnant sleepwalker!
Maybe I will make him a midnight rescue kit to throw at me in case he wakes the hormonal sleepwalker of doritos and mint cookies?
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