After weeks of denial, I must admit to a very troubling part of my pregnancy: my recent addiction to Airhead candies.
Before I became pregnant, I bought a large box of Airheads at Wal-Mart. I nibbled on them occasionally, but weeks went by during which I forgot I even had them. My addiction had not yet formed then; my life was still my own.
Now, I want them all the time. This addiction is compounded by my not being able to drink five cups of tea any more, as I formerly did, because of the caffeine. Further, I’ve read that chamomile and certain herbal teas might be harmful. Thus, now I’m deprived even of the misogynistic bear tea, so you see how empty my life has become. Perhaps as a replacement, I want to eat the Airheads all the time. When I’m away from home and my colorful, chewy candies, I think of them and picture myself coming home to eat them. It’s a happy image that buoys me through the work day.
I try to regulate myself. At first, I told myself I would only eat them every other day, but that proved impossible. Days are so long. Who has that kind of self control? So I amended the rule to say that I will never have more than two a day, and I have never, ever strayed from this, except on the days when I have three. I don’t ever have more than three, though, primarily because they are too chewy. My teeth start to hurt, and I get a small headache from chewing so hard after three. Also, um, they’re not good for the baby, which is the primary motivator. I should have mentioned that reason first.
My husband is very judgmental about my Airhead addiction. He is big on eating natural foods and avoiding preservatives, and he cites all sorts of studies proving that probably I am already dead from eating two Airheads a day. I would like to add that I am normally compliant. There are lots of yummy preservative laden foods that I enjoyed before marrying him (without dying, even), but I have given all of them up. It’s just that I love Red Dye No. 40! My body craves it and, more importantly, so does my unborn child.
I told my best friend about my addiction, and she was very supportive. She said that people eat much worse foods while pregnant. She added that, aside from the Airheads, I’m very healthy and natural, and she offered me all sorts of other words that rebuilt my self esteem. I told my husband about this conversation. I thought that he would admit that the artificial flavors really weren’t so bad, perhaps also adding that I am a wonderful and perfect person and that even Gandhi probably popped a few Airheads in between hunger strikes. Certainly that’s what I would have said to me. But no! He continued to be hardnosed! He said my friend could sugar coat it (I couldn’t resist), but that there was no way that chemicals and artificial ingredients were good for me or the baby.
He also asked how I could possibly ingest 80 Airheads anyway. But that was an egregious exaggeration. There were only 72 in the box. Plus, a few times I had to share them with my tutoring students because I was so overcome with desire for an Airhead that I had to have a couple while tutoring. Then, of course, I had to share them. It was a tactical error that I have struggled valiantly not to repeat.
Today, a dire situation arose. It was an occurrence that I have been dreading for weeks. I ate the last Airhead. Before today there were only three left, and now there are no more. (Obviously, I had to break the rule and have three today because it was the last three. Otherwise, there would only be one left for tomorrow, and that would have been terribly unfulfilling. The slight headache that ensued was worth it.) I always thought I’d end the bad addiction when the box was empty, but now I feel a bit panicked. I want more. I need more. But it’s hard to justify sneaking out to Wal-Mart and replenishing the box because it does seem possible that Airheads don’t contain any nutritional value. Also, I haven’t yet thought of a good excuse for my husband when another box appears. It’s not the same as hiding Sleepy Time tea, really.
The truth is that the impending Airhead famine leaves me worried less about myself than my baby. Mostly—almost entirely, really—I was eating them because the baby wanted them so much. I hardly ever ate them before the baby, so clearly all Airhead consumption was in response to a primal call from my fetus. If my child wants and needs Red Dye No. 40, is it really appropriate for me to deprive him of it?
Before I became pregnant, I bought a large box of Airheads at Wal-Mart. I nibbled on them occasionally, but weeks went by during which I forgot I even had them. My addiction had not yet formed then; my life was still my own.
Now, I want them all the time. This addiction is compounded by my not being able to drink five cups of tea any more, as I formerly did, because of the caffeine. Further, I’ve read that chamomile and certain herbal teas might be harmful. Thus, now I’m deprived even of the misogynistic bear tea, so you see how empty my life has become. Perhaps as a replacement, I want to eat the Airheads all the time. When I’m away from home and my colorful, chewy candies, I think of them and picture myself coming home to eat them. It’s a happy image that buoys me through the work day.
I try to regulate myself. At first, I told myself I would only eat them every other day, but that proved impossible. Days are so long. Who has that kind of self control? So I amended the rule to say that I will never have more than two a day, and I have never, ever strayed from this, except on the days when I have three. I don’t ever have more than three, though, primarily because they are too chewy. My teeth start to hurt, and I get a small headache from chewing so hard after three. Also, um, they’re not good for the baby, which is the primary motivator. I should have mentioned that reason first.
My husband is very judgmental about my Airhead addiction. He is big on eating natural foods and avoiding preservatives, and he cites all sorts of studies proving that probably I am already dead from eating two Airheads a day. I would like to add that I am normally compliant. There are lots of yummy preservative laden foods that I enjoyed before marrying him (without dying, even), but I have given all of them up. It’s just that I love Red Dye No. 40! My body craves it and, more importantly, so does my unborn child.
I told my best friend about my addiction, and she was very supportive. She said that people eat much worse foods while pregnant. She added that, aside from the Airheads, I’m very healthy and natural, and she offered me all sorts of other words that rebuilt my self esteem. I told my husband about this conversation. I thought that he would admit that the artificial flavors really weren’t so bad, perhaps also adding that I am a wonderful and perfect person and that even Gandhi probably popped a few Airheads in between hunger strikes. Certainly that’s what I would have said to me. But no! He continued to be hardnosed! He said my friend could sugar coat it (I couldn’t resist), but that there was no way that chemicals and artificial ingredients were good for me or the baby.
He also asked how I could possibly ingest 80 Airheads anyway. But that was an egregious exaggeration. There were only 72 in the box. Plus, a few times I had to share them with my tutoring students because I was so overcome with desire for an Airhead that I had to have a couple while tutoring. Then, of course, I had to share them. It was a tactical error that I have struggled valiantly not to repeat.
Today, a dire situation arose. It was an occurrence that I have been dreading for weeks. I ate the last Airhead. Before today there were only three left, and now there are no more. (Obviously, I had to break the rule and have three today because it was the last three. Otherwise, there would only be one left for tomorrow, and that would have been terribly unfulfilling. The slight headache that ensued was worth it.) I always thought I’d end the bad addiction when the box was empty, but now I feel a bit panicked. I want more. I need more. But it’s hard to justify sneaking out to Wal-Mart and replenishing the box because it does seem possible that Airheads don’t contain any nutritional value. Also, I haven’t yet thought of a good excuse for my husband when another box appears. It’s not the same as hiding Sleepy Time tea, really.
The truth is that the impending Airhead famine leaves me worried less about myself than my baby. Mostly—almost entirely, really—I was eating them because the baby wanted them so much. I hardly ever ate them before the baby, so clearly all Airhead consumption was in response to a primal call from my fetus. If my child wants and needs Red Dye No. 40, is it really appropriate for me to deprive him of it?
