Yes, that is my freezer.
The girl who is trying oh so hard to be overtly healthy in order to create a prime breeding ground inside her uterus.
A uterus where two very special ice babies should hopefully be sticking in just under a month.
The same girl who clearly doesn’t do so hot on hormones, because she now has 3 different kinds of Ben & Jerry’s in her freezer.
It happened last night.
I was sitting at work (doing just fine) when suddenly I remembered being told about Snickerdoodle ice cream a few weeks ago. And in an instant; I had to have it.
I tried to talk myself out of it. Attempted to convince myself that this was a want and not a need.
But I couldn’t force the craving away. I couldn’t shut it up. I couldn’t stop it.
And thus, instead of driving straight home after work; I found myself at the grocery store.
But when I was standing at the ice cream case, I suddenly remembered how much I love Phish Food and Mint Chocolate Cookie too. Now, it is here where I should pause and tell you that I can’t remember the last time I had Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. I'm typically not a big sweets person. I prefer savory (cheese!) to sweet (ice cream) any day. As such, I rarely have anything like this in the house.
And usually, I'm totally fine with that.
But clearly, baby making drugs change everything.
For the worst.
Because before I knew it, I was putting all 3 pints in my cart. And walking out with them and nothing else, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to do.
Yes, I am the girl who proceeded to the checkout stand with 3 pints of ice cream. Only 3 pints of ice cream.
I don’t even want to know what the clerk must have been thinking as he rang me up.
When I got home, I found a package in my mail box. I had been texting with Loo at the time, and rather than put my phone back in my purse so I could tear into the package like a child at Christmas, for some reason I put it down my shirt.
I say that like it’s abnormal, but it’s really not. My cleavage has served as the holding spot for far more random things than my phone. What can I say? I’m all about turning the “fun” into “functional”.
While nestled up against my bosom though, my phone began to make a few unfortunate calls. To people who I wouldn’t have called myself. People whose numbers I probably shouldn’t even have anymore, because they really haven’t been very good to me. People who likely didn’t buy my “the phone was in my breasts” excuse at all.
Stupid newfangled phones with their stupid touch screens that can’t tell the difference between fingertips and breast tissue.
Anyway, it was as I was putting my ice cream away that I heard my dad’s voice.
Erupting from my bosom.
Turns out that after my phone had dialed the numbers of ghosts from my past without my realizing it; it had then dialed my father.
And really, I felt like my phone was ratting me out.
Because as soon as I started talking to him (after digging the phone out of my cleavage) I felt compelled to confess what I had just done (my subconscious already killing me, not 15 minutes post purchase). When I revealed that I now had 3 different kinds of Ben & Jerry's ice cream in my freezer he paused and said "Well... was that a very good idea?"
I'm telling you; picture your best parental scold ever. The kind most present their 6 year olds with when they want them to conclude they made a bad decision all on their own.
I whined "Nooooo." Already forming a combination pout/scowl and reverting to my 6 year old self.
“Well OK then" he said. "How about you show some willpower and only have a few spoonfuls a night."
My dad obviously doesn't know me.
If I had any willpower at all, I never would have ended up at the grocery store with nothing but 3 cartons of ice cream in my basket to begin with.
The good news is, I’m a fan of the Snickerdoodle ice cream.
The bad news is, I had to try all 3 just to be able to determine which kind I liked best.
Phish Food still wins.
Then Mint Chocolate Cookie.
Then Snickerdoodle.
Meaning that the whole driving force behind this shopping trip was really totally unnecessary, because I don’t even like it more than my two previous favorites that I wasn’t even craving at all but bought on default because I was already there buying ice cream.
I don’t want to talk about it.
In unrelated news, I got a call today from my condo association. They're going to be paying for all the repairs my kitchen needs as a result of that nasty little leak. All the rotten, moldy walls are coming out, the floors are being replaced, and the countertops as well. I am beyond pumped! I was so upset when I realized the damage that leak had caused, but now that I know it’s going to lead to me getting a new kitchen? I couldn’t be happier. That is the only room in the entire condo I hadn’t yet remodeled, and I truly hated how old and outdated everything was. Knowing it’s going to get a facelift now, without having to drop a dime myself; I'm reminded that everything happens for a reason and sometimes I really do just have to be patient to figure out what that reason is.
Hopefully I can remember that lesson here in the next month, no matter what the final outcome is.
And remember that package I mentioned? The one that resulted in me shoving my phone in my cleavage in the first place?
Look what it contained:
My friend Veronika made it for me, and I seriously teared up when I saw it. Isn’t it just incredible? And the perfect good luck charm for this cycle? She literally picked out every piece with care and thought; intentionally choosing stones and symbols that represent fertility, serenity, and transformation.
Thank you so much Veronika! It means more to me than I could ever possibly tell you, and I cannot wait to wear it for good luck on my transfer day!
The transfer day where I will hopefully still be relatively the same size girl I am today.
Because if these ridiculous cravings keep up, that may not be the case.And I still don’t want to talk about it.
