So, I am a walking talking stereotype. Yes, I am pregnant. 26 weeks to be exact. Yes, I am craving pickles. I should be cast on a sitcom because this is exactly what would happen to the lead female character if she was pregnant. I loved pickles pre-pregnancy, but now that love has been taken to a new level. I seriously eat a pickle every single day. It’s just a random little snack that I eat right out of the jar with the fridge door wide open. If I still lived with my Dad, he would be so mad. It was only natural for me to combine my love of pickles and carbs. It happened on a day when I ran out of jarred pickles. A pregnant lady left to her own devices, home all alone, becomes MacGyver when faced with coming up with something to satiate her craving. “Get me an avocado, ice pick, and a snorkel.” Name the movie! But for real, I got my sour batard out of the freezer, the Panini press out of the pantry, a garden-fresh cucumber, vinegar, some dill and of course some cream cheese. Done and done! Once again, my crazy brain …

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