Hungry

I used to get mad at the Man when he ate in non-eating public places. For example, a rather large fight erupted when we were standing at a West Jet service desk and I looked over to see my partner stuffing his face full of peanuts while trying to communicate to the agent. I cringed. If he weren't so handsome and were just a bit plumper he would be disgusted with himself. But somehow he thinks its totally fine to eat non stop in public places, dripping crumbs on bank tellers, clients and the worst: on grocery clerks at check out. I have never understood why people will not just sit down to eat a meal rather than snack all day, rudely, and uncleanly in front of others. Is it possible to be THAT hungry? Can they not just eat breakfast and then wait for lunch, take some time out of their day and find a seat away from their computer, away from their desk and away from their work for ten minutes to slow down and enjoy the morsels that pass through their lips?

Then I hit fifteen weeks. Its been only three days now, but all of this "rude to eat in front of people" crap has dissipated. I am hungry. I don't care who is around me or where I am. I am hungry. I was walking towards my gate in the airport just two days ago. It was only an hour flight and I was nicely stocked with enough beef jerky to feed an Albertan family for an hour. Yet, the popcorn stand tempted me. That's not entirely true, there was no temptation. I simply saw popcorn, purchased dill pickle and cheddar popcorn and consumed popcorn. I don't think I actually was tempted, because that would include pausing and thinking. No I just ate. I ate all the way to the gate, all the way down the weird cubicle-like tunnel, all the way down the airplane aisle whilst passengers glared at me, and then the entire flight: much to my neighbour's dismay. I was that annoying person. I had a big newspaper spread out and I was stuffing my face, non-stop. I paused only when the pieces fell to the ground. Then I would search for them and decide whether they were edible or not, again much to this clean Asian man's dismay. Once my popcorn was done I started into the fruit gums. I meant to have one, but instead I sucked and chewed my way through an entire packet. Just in time to meet the Man at the baggage carousel. By that time I was ready to break into the beef jerky, which we ate all the way home (with a stop off at Booster Juice) before dinner. It is times like these that I wish I had just a bit of a bump, so others could at least try to understand.

Last night I had delivery Chinese food. I have never ordered food to my door, ever. When I was a little girl and my mom was raising three kids we didn't even order in, we would pick up our food for the extra 10% discount. Never have I ordered food in, it grosses me out. It is the epitome of laziness. It is how people get so fat that they can't fit out of their door frames. It doesn't make sense. If you want food, you should have to work for it, even if that is just driving and paying for it. So I want to be clear: I did not order the Chinese food. I turned down the offer when we walked by the restaurant but immediately regretted my decision when we got home and I was trying to pick bean sprouts out of his noodles. I think it was annoying the Man as much as it was frustrating me, so he picked up the phone and placed an order for another bowl of noodles sans bean sprouts and MSG, plus another dish. The food arrived, the Man paid...and then he left. He went to play soccer, to get fit, while I sat on the couch and ate Chinese food. I felt disgusting and like I had missed out on an important experience my whole life. Ease. The ease of eating without moving at all. Effortless. And soon after, grossness.

But unlike days gone by where I would combat a gross indulgence by cutting back a bit the next day, saying "no" to seconds or eating bran instead of sugary cereals for breakfast, instead I went to bed full and woke up starving. Famished actually, where I was running to the bathroom retching because my stomach has never been so empty. These days my number one cash grabber is food. I was a girl that would starve to save money. During university I would have a $1.50 bagel for breakfast and a $1.00 bowl of white rice for lunch and maybe another bowl for dinner, then head home to eat peanut butter and crackers. But I had money for clothes, for boots, for snowboards and concerts. Now I don't want to buy clothes that won't fit for long, I am taking up hobbies to kill time til I can mountain bike again and I get headaches if I go to bars or concerts. So I buy food. Sad.

Yesterday I squeezed into a pair of skinny jeans I had avoided since the day I found out I was pregnant. I was late to meet a friend for lunch so I ran out the door before I realized they were unbearably uncomfortable. Too late, I was biking to meet her when I realized another thing. I hadn't been on a bike since late Summer. I am out of shape. I was panting, granted this is a single speed bicycle but the route was completely flat, perhaps even downhill. It was cold out but I was sweating, and panting and my thighs felt like they were going to split the stupid skinny jeans that weren't made for pregnant thighs (stretchy or not). Alas I arrived and gorged on fries with veggie gravy, a veggie dog loaded with cheese and a salad to encourage my heart to continue to beat. Ok, here lies the secret: I undid my button when I arrived. It was unbearable, I had to. And then when I got back to my bike to go home I undid the zipper, and sadly, there was no fear that they would fall down. They were painted on. And then, a bit sadder, I walked beside my bike all the way home because I didn't think I could bear to lean over my full belly and balance the bike. Don't be confused, I don't have a bump yet. I'm just getting wider and plumper, and hungrier yet.