I like candy

A Sunday morning 6 months ago:

I wake up at 1PM, drink some water followed by a fast food breakfast sandwhich chased with a mimosa. Read the Sunday paper on the front porch while sipping a bloody mary and smoking cigarettes. Have an early evening BBQ with friends, drink some beers.

My Sunday morning at 17 weeks pregnant:

Wake up at 10AM, eat a peach, drink some cranberry juice. Sit on the couch and watch a little Ice Truckers followed by some "What Would Brian Boitano Make?" My sense of smell is so strong now that I can smell my dogs ass from across the room and it makes me sick to my stomach. I eventually decide I should probably eat and get an instant hankering for a Cinnabon and a Mochalotta Chill. I ask Chris to research if I can in fact even drink a Mochalotta Chill - his research is inconclusive, I decide to risk it and head for the mall. I call Court on the drive and begin to tell her my pregnancy woes and interrupt her lunch with stories of watermelon vjjs and my fears of boob feeding. I express to her that getting a cinnabon will be the highlight of my weekend.

I arrive at the mall, park at the entrance nearest to Cinnabon, get out my wallet and march with haste directly to the food court. I stand in front of Cinnabon confused as to why the lights are off , I stare blankly at the storefront for a good three minutes and I begin to get teary eyed until I realize that they must have moved locations - I immediately dash to a mall directory. A mall employee at the directory informs me that Cinnabon is closed indefinitely - I think he can sense that I'm about to cry because he quickly tells me that Auntie Anns makes a cinnamon pretzel that could be mistaken for a cinnamon roll. so I go get a stupid pretzel with cream cheese dipping sauce - it was bad but I ate it anyway because at this point I am very hungry, not the pre-pregnancy tummy growling hungry, but the kind of hungry where it feels like the baby is eating my innards. I eat my pretzel at a bench in the mall, spilling cinnamon and sugar all over me, it's in my hair, shirt, jeans - I just don't care. I disgust the people sitting across from me, they get up and leave. I stand up and shimmy and shake all the crumbs off and decide to walk around for a while...

I am grossly unsatisfied by the pretzel breakfast and longing for a Mochalotta Chill. I wander the mall aimlessly, with no desire to try on clothes or even look in any of the stores - I keep hoping I will find a secret Cinnabon location. I give nasty glares to the cute 19 year old girls in their short shorts with beautiful summer tans. I can tell they're whispering about the sugar that is still all over me. My sweet tooth still raging, I stop in the candy by the pound store and buy $7 worth of jelly bellys. I can't even remember the last time I ate pure candy, and it's pretty damn good. I pop jelly bean after jelly bean for a good half hour stroll around the mall. As I'm exiting, I see Hagan Daaz has a "Coffee Baristo" frozen beverage - I decide I can pretend it is a Mochalotta Chill and gladly pay the $6.

While waiting for them to make this drink that costs more than a $5 bill, I begin imagining how delicious it must be because it's so expensive. I suddenly start noticing how long the line is behind me. There is a woman with a little girl, she is so annoying...oh my god...that's going to be me soon. I'm going to have a stroller and a demanding little person and left over tummy fat and a soccer mom haircut. It's so overwhelming - I start feeling light headed...why is my drink taking so long - I"m now having to hold myself up on the counter and tell the register guy that I need a water stat. At this point I'm sweating and dizzy; there are at least 10 people staring at me like I am ODing on drugs. I don't really look pregnant right now, so nobody cares that I'm about to pass out, they probably think I deserve it because of the powder still all over my face (pretzel residue). I literally stumble to a chair 15 feet away, and sit down dizzy and groggy from candy, and it takes me a good 10 minutes to recover. I walk with my head down to the car and whimper the whole way home about how lame I am these days. I the immediately yell at my husband for whatever it is he is doing, because damn it, THIS IS SO UNFAIR.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited we are starting a new adventure in our lives, and I am thrilled we are having a baby - but I am not in love with being pregnant. People keep telling me to cherish and enjoy this time; some women going so far as to tell me it's their most fond memorable moments. Seriously?? Because I have been so clean for the past 4.5 months that on Sunday I GOT HIGH FROM CANDY.