"I just offered Sarah some yummy dessert. She said, 'No, I just want some water.' Then I saw her grab the milk.
"'Water?' I asked.
"'Well,' she replied sheepishly, 'I saw the milk, and Ovaltine sounded so good all of a sudden.'
"You're making Sarah act awfully funny."
Showing posts with label cravings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cravings. Show all posts
Friday, September 28
Wednesday, September 19
Hiding McDonald's Chocolate Milkshakes from Dave
If there is one thing that Dave is good at, it is insuring we eat healthy meals all the time. There's the occasional dinner out where no vegetables graze our plates, but this is a rare instance, especially with our vegetable garden and CSA-farm membership. Right now we have tomatoes and squash galore... and the last things I want to eat are tomatoes or squash. I want chocolate milkshakes.
Today I drove out to Target for a prescription pick-up, and suddenly I was starving. The past two weeks of school have been very busy for me, and I've been eating and running, or not eating regularly and then finding myself famished at 4:30pm, my last meal at 7:30am. And when the hunger hits, the blood sugar level drops dramatically. So I was walking to the car with my prescription and suddenly my body was crying out for something to eat. So I drove the car through the McDonald's drive-thru, ordered a small chocolate milkshake, and proceeded to suck it down as fast as I could before getting home.
It was around 5:00pm, and rush hour traffic should have saved me from having to come clean about ordering a chocolate milkshake, at McDonald's, no less, but unfortunately I was driving the wrong-way in the traffic, and I got home too fast. Plus, I was about to give myself a monstrous ice cream headache to boot. So I sulked up the stairs and hoped he wouldn't see the milkshake cup I placed on the kitchen counter.
But he did, and being Dave, he only said, "A milkshake, huh?" And thus I felt guilty that I had consumed a milkshake right before dinner. I told myself I shouldn't drink these things. But that's what I wanted. And it had to be better than a Big Mac and fries.
All of this is in my head, of course. Dave isn't passing judgment on the McDonald's milkshake; he's sad that he wasn't around to share one with me. It's my own guilt recycled around - you're feeding this baby WHAT? You don't want your children to eat junk food , and yet you're ordering it through the drive-thru and forcing the fetus to consume this milkshake? Yes, that's really where the guilt comes from - all the perfect mommy books and perfect parenting guides that tell me drinking one McDonald's milkshake will destroy this child growing inside. So dealing with my food guilt is really dealing with the perfect parent brigades - and it's about ignoring those people for a little pleasure, taken in small doses. Because I'm pregnant, damnit. And I should be able to have a milkshake.
Today I drove out to Target for a prescription pick-up, and suddenly I was starving. The past two weeks of school have been very busy for me, and I've been eating and running, or not eating regularly and then finding myself famished at 4:30pm, my last meal at 7:30am. And when the hunger hits, the blood sugar level drops dramatically. So I was walking to the car with my prescription and suddenly my body was crying out for something to eat. So I drove the car through the McDonald's drive-thru, ordered a small chocolate milkshake, and proceeded to suck it down as fast as I could before getting home.
It was around 5:00pm, and rush hour traffic should have saved me from having to come clean about ordering a chocolate milkshake, at McDonald's, no less, but unfortunately I was driving the wrong-way in the traffic, and I got home too fast. Plus, I was about to give myself a monstrous ice cream headache to boot. So I sulked up the stairs and hoped he wouldn't see the milkshake cup I placed on the kitchen counter.
But he did, and being Dave, he only said, "A milkshake, huh?" And thus I felt guilty that I had consumed a milkshake right before dinner. I told myself I shouldn't drink these things. But that's what I wanted. And it had to be better than a Big Mac and fries.
All of this is in my head, of course. Dave isn't passing judgment on the McDonald's milkshake; he's sad that he wasn't around to share one with me. It's my own guilt recycled around - you're feeding this baby WHAT? You don't want your children to eat junk food , and yet you're ordering it through the drive-thru and forcing the fetus to consume this milkshake? Yes, that's really where the guilt comes from - all the perfect mommy books and perfect parenting guides that tell me drinking one McDonald's milkshake will destroy this child growing inside. So dealing with my food guilt is really dealing with the perfect parent brigades - and it's about ignoring those people for a little pleasure, taken in small doses. Because I'm pregnant, damnit. And I should be able to have a milkshake.
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