Food

A little known fact about me... I LOVE food. It's true. I hate to say it, but it's just the way it is. I love the flavors, the textures and the smells. After a hard day of crying babies, sometimes all I need is a really great meal. (I know this is unhealthy... hence my efforts at the gym. That balances out my love of food, right?) The bad part is that I am also the world's most finicky eater. When all my friends talked about having uncontrollable cravings during pregnancy, I felt a little sad that I wasn't experiencing such comical happenings as well. Then it occurred to me that food cravings are just a normal state of being for me. That is why I didn't notice them as out-of-the-ordinary while I was carrying each of my three children. What happens is that at about 4:00 in the afternoon a certain food will pop into my head. This is what I must eat for dinner. Try as I might, nothing else will satisfy my current need. (Things get a little dicey when all I want is a Kneaders chicken salad croissant sandwich and they are out of croissants) This also makes it incredibly difficult to plan a menu for a week or a month like most of my friends do. If I have something planned for the day, come 4:00, chances are I'll want something completely different. And if I don't eat what I'm craving, and instead try to buy myself off with something else... it literally makes me sick to my stomach. This usually leads to me dumping out whatever's in the crock pot and running to the nearest Taco Bell instead. I have made countless promises (empty promises) to Ryan to try and curb my fickle appetite, and go the much more frugal route of cooking dinners (and actually eating what I cook instead of dumping it out). The on-going deal is that if I can cook 5 nights out of the week, then he will pick something up for us once a week. Last week I rededicated myself to my cooking efforts. I think I did pretty well. But then yesterday started a new week. I drove past a billboard for the Wendy's bacon cheeseburger. Mmmm mmm mmm. Ryan was not impressed that I wanted to use my out-to-eat meal on Monday. He didn't believe I would cook as promised the rest of the week. But after an hour of begging and basically selling my soul to him, I finally convinced him to take a chance on me and off to Wendy's we went. I ordered my nice, juicy bacon cheeseburger. I was so excited. When we got home I delved into the bag and dug around for my burger. Then I dug some more. Wait! Where's my burger? My delicious bacon cheeseburger that I sold my soul to eat? Where are you, burger? Wait a minute!... what's this? A jr. bacon cheeseburger? Noooooooooooo! So 4 bites later my wimpy little jr. bacon cheeseburger was gone and I was left completely unsatisfied. As a single tear ran down my cheek, it occurred to me that food is a fickle mistress that will always let you down.