Sunday, April 22, 2012

Twizzlers, Processed Meats and Lemonade...

At nearly 19 weeks I am in full swing with all my weird cravings. My sweet husband puts up with them, indulges them a little,  and discourages them when necessary. It's often necessary.

Meg was caramel apples and spaghetti. When I say spaghetti, I mean, three times a week, spaghetti. My mom was very patient with this, and obliged me. The rest of the family still has a hard time choking down spaghetti, over 20 years later, and a family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs never occurs where someone doesn't mention my obsession.

 Kenzie was this peanut butter ice cream that was so good, it made you wanna slap your mama (I have never used that phrase in my life, but that's how good that stuff was!)  and canned Chef Boyardee (gross - but my Grandma Karcher had just died, and it so reminded me of her).

Jonah was all about lemon pie, but my usual need for some sort of pasta left me instead with a severe aversion to anything with red sauce. Jenna was maraschino cherries and barbecued pork ribs. As I have mentioned, we live in an area where there are no stores open late. This meant that any late night cravings, such as the cherries would have to be taken care of by someone who had access to a grocery store. I actually made my sister go buy me maraschino cherries and take them to my husband's work so he could bring them home to me at the end of the night.  I have no idea why.

Ah Kolbe - the Mexican restaurants probably quivered with a mixture of fear and anticipation of a big check when I frequented them... and the cole slaw - still makes me crave it when I think about it.

Luke Christopher wanted raw green peppers and Taco Bell. Prior to this I had never eaten a raw green pepper in my life - didn't like them cooked, either. I still totally love them, though. Thanks, Lukey!

Benjamin, the little darling, had me running to Dairy Queen on a nearly daily basis for a banana cream pie blizzard. I decided that was okay because I also couldn't get enough salad. Caleb - oh my. The bridge mix addiction was BAD. Then I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and no longer cared what I was craving. I ate mostly salads, with enough protein to keep me from being nauseous, and BANANAS like crazy. Often accompanied by sugar free jello and peanut butter, which usually is one of my aversions.

My sweet little twins, I don't remember if I craved anything with them. I am not sure I was even paying attention to that - I was so nervous and nauseous the whole time, I don't think I had cravings. This baby however, has made his or her preferences loud and clear. This child wants meat. Not lean turkey or anything healthy. He/she wants pepperoni. And pastrami. And capicola. Kielbasa!And any other spicy processed meat you can think of. I was watching Diners, Drive Ins and Dives last night. Guy was eating an all beef hot dog topped with pastrami, sour crout, and swiss cheese. I was salivating. I had to make Doug change the channel before I sent him out (which, here would mean to a whole other town where stores stay open past 9pm) and get me the stuff to make that sandwich. Oh my...I am still thinking about it. How twisted is that, though? Processed meats? I mean, I have nothing against them ordinarily. I certainly would not say I have ever been hungry for any of them before, though.

The other very horrible craving has been apple fritters. Our grocery store makes the BEST APPLE FRITTERS IN THE WORLD. And I am in there almost daily. To my credit (ahem), I have only allowed myself to purchase them twice in nearly 19 weeks of pregnancy. And I can't eat the whole thing - they are huge. But so, so delicious. They have loads of apples and plenty of cinnamon. The outside is all crispy and the inside is all soft and wonderful. You want one now, don't you? They are so good, and I have always loved them, but I have never had dreams about them before.

I just wrote an entire post about food. I am not sure that even pregnancy is enough cause to write and entire post about food, but you will have to forgive me.

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