I used to be a sweetsaholic. I craved rich, chocolaty, don’t-insult me-with-your-flan kind of sweets. Then I had to cut that out. The sweets started keeping me up at night. And just making me feel gross. So I just replaced the sugar with salt.
When I was pregnant I found many foods to be bland. I started salting my food at the table. I indulged my love for crunchy Kettle brand potato chips. This need for salt never left me. Maybe because it just replaced the sugar.
Today I found the equivalent of dried-up oatmeal in my post-baby belly button. And by “post-baby” I mean three point three years ago.
To all you mothers out there whose tummies shrunk back with elasticity and youth? Grrr…
I swear, it doesn’t matter how many miles I run. How many planks and mountains I do. My stomach just won’t budge. There is something seriously not cool about the skin around my belly button.
There is this feeling that I love. The feeling I get when someone plays with my hair. It’s a sleepy feeling with chills and a Mona Lisa smile. Rarely does anyone play with my hair, but lucky me! I can get that same feeling from interesting sounds, too.
Like the rolling of a skateboarder moving down the sidewalk. That “ka-chungk ka-chungk ka-chungk” as the wheels roll over the cracks in the pavement.
The sound of someone eating crunchy stuff, like hard candy or honey-roasted peanuts.
The crinkle of someone’s hand reaching into a little bag of chips.
And I am instantly sedated.
I want that feeling now.