Tag Archives: M&Ms

It’s not you, it’s me, Diet Coke.

When I kissed you, girl, I knew how sweet a kiss could be…

The Archies had it right.  Sugar.  You are my candy, girl.  I love sugar.  Love.  Sugar.  And if I ate all natural straight from the source sugar with moderate regularity that wouldn’t really be a problem.

But that’s not really the case.

I have written frequently about my love affair with peanut M&Ms. (Here.  Here.  Here. Oh, and here.)

Just a few days after my decision to stop buying peanut M&Ms on the regular I had to stand in a long line in front of this sign.  A SALE!  On peanut M&Ms!!  I must have been a real asshole in a former life to be faced with this.  I resisted.


I will eat more peanut M&Ms.  But I will not eat the whole bag mindlessly.  Or because it is “what I do.”  I will choose to have a few from time to time.  Peanut M&Ms are not good for me.  But they won’t kill me.

Diet Coke on the other hand?  They might.  Not right away. But if I drink one a day for the next fifty years that is an awful lot of Diet Cokes.

A while ago I realized I hadn’t had one in three days.  So I went a few more.  And then (like an addict) I had “just one.”  You know, to see what all the fuss was about.  Were they even that good?

Yes.  They are good.  Diet Coke is a magic elixir. I like it cold, warm, flat, old, from under the seat of my car, left on the kitchen counter and diluted from ice cubes.  I like it.  So, I had a few more.

And then I quit again.

Diet Coke,

I think it needs to be over between us.  I can’t have just one.  Somewhere out in the ether you will find a bunch of sad Marlboro Lights.  You will recognize them by their long faces.  They probably never really understood that we wouldn’t be getting back together. I quit smoking a million times.  And then one day I stopped “quitting.”  I just stopped. I don’t feel weird when I go to a gas station anymore because I don’t need to think about not buying a pack of smokes. Seek them out, they can probably help you understand my sudden rejection.  

And Diet Coke, one day I will stop looking longingly at you in the refrigerated section.  I might even say hello when I stop over to grab beers on a summer afternoon. But don’t get friendly.  Don’t act like you and me are a thing. I can’t promise we won’t ever share another kiss.  But Diet Coke, it is over between you and me.  Over. And really, it’s not me, it’s you.


Day 95: See how much free sugar you can collect?

I guess I went about this challenge ass backwards.  Instead of gobbling up free packs of sugar I took a long look at the sweets I do eat and why.  I eat sugar because I think I deserve it.  Candy and soda (which is basically rotgut) is my treat.  How screwed up is that? That’s not a treat.  I am not being kind to myself.  Instead of candy and soda from the gas station why don’t I have a spoonful of the delicious zillion dollar local honey we keep in the cabinet? Or run in to the grocery store and buy the tastiest piece of fruit I see.  That is what I deserve.  How about you? Are your treats really a treat for your body?  And are they rare or do you reward yourself more often than you realize?

When M&Ms won’t cut it….

If you read pregnancy blogs or books (or even an Iphone app I have been using) you know that everyone suggests that the expecting mom and her partner make sure to take time for themselves before the birth of their baby.  They suggest a “second trimester get-away.”  After the sleepiness of the first trimester and before the third trimester uncomfortable-ness sets in, I guess,  the happy couple is supposed to head off to a bed and breakfast and bask in the joy of their impending bundle.  I can’t really wrap my mind around that.

 To me, that translates in to an overpriced weekend away in a time when Baby Budgeting is all consuming.  A weekend away where I can’t have a glass of wine, I may or may not get what I want to eat and I might fall asleep before I even remember to get laid.  No, thanks.

MQD and I have mini-dates all of the time instead.  They tend to last about an hour and take place while Em is either in bed for the night or having dinner across the street.  And tonight we had a sneak attack date.  My favorite kind.  Em had an invite for dinner so MQD and I did what any two red blooded newlyweds would do.

We went to the grocery store.  First we smooched in the kitchen and made some inappropriate jokes at our pets, and then I invited him to tag along with me while I ran out for a frozen pizza.    Can you have a better time?

Yeah.  You can.  At 39 weeks pregnant M&Ms will do the trick.  But at 39.5 weeks… you need Pizza. And Turtle Pie.  And Nachos.  And Oreos.

Last Hurrah

As we walked towards the check out we were giggling like a couple of freewheeling twentysomethings without a care in the world.  MQD looks around, evidently failing to take note of my pregnancy waddle and says “Do we look high?”

I burst in to giggles.  We unloaded our “groceries” and examined our bounty, as if one item would jump off the conveyor belt and answer the question he had posed.

“It’s not the food, Mike… it’s your slippers.”

Best Date Ever

 I couldn’t have asked for a better time.  Pizza, nachos, oreos, pie and giggles.  It’s not lost on me that at 39.5 weeks pregnant the Best Date Ever has all the ingredients of a 12 year old’s slumber party.

Love & Marriage

Love and marriage… go together like assorted maxi pads and M&Ms?  Somehow I don’t think that is what Frank Sinatra had in mind when he said “horse and carriage.”

But that about sums it up as far as I am concerned.

The other night I stood in the hallway between our bedroom and our living room.  Our beautiful new king sized bed in our lovely bedroom called my name.  But my husband, sitting on our new couch in our new living room… he looked pretty cute, too.  We are still newlyweds, afterall.  The siren’s call of our bed won me over so I inquired “Will you come and sit with me for a minute?   I’ll be asleep in five minutes.”

He rose from the couch and went to get me a glass of water.  Grabbed my Tums off the kitchen counter as he returned, placing them both next to my side of the bed.  He climbed in to bed next to me and began to laugh.  “You know we have only been married for nine months?”

Without even thinking how it might be received I blurted out “It seems like SO much longer than that.”

He smiled and said “Well, I am glad you feel that way, too…”

It has been a whirlwind of a year.  Last winter we were finalizing wedding plans.  And a year later we are in our new house, married, our daughter climbing on to the school bus at the base of our driveway every morning, waiting on the birth of our baby.

If your life has to resemble a Talking Heads song better “Once in a Lifetime”  (And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife and you may ask yourself— Well…How did I get here?) than “Life During Wartime” (This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, This ain’t no fooling around, No time for dancing or lovey dovey, I ain’t got time for that now!!!)

So, what does this have to do with maxipads and M&Ms?

The other evening I tucked Em in to bed and snuck back downstairs.  In to the medicine cabinet in our bedroom I went.

There was a time in my life when the master bedroom medicine cabinet was a treasure trove of good times.  Need to sleep?  Wake up?  Get happy?  Chill out? Get psyched?  I gotcha.

And now this.  I paused as I opened the door and snapped the picture above.  And then I listened for little feet before I snagged the bag of M&Ms that MQD had hidden for me.  Had to make sure that no one would bust me ripping the bag open.  There in my medicine cabinet is everything I need to feel great. Big maxi pads, small maxipads, lanolin for sore nipples, breast pads for leaky boobs, my favorite face soap… and a bag of peanut  M&Ms.

It’s no secret I am not exactly feeling great lately.  I am DONE being pregnant.  Finished.  Ready to trade the low throbbing all day pelvic bone pain for the pains of labor. Ready to hold this baby in my arms, instead of between my thighs (or at least that is how it feels, so help me every time I get up I feel like a baby is sure to fall out and hit the floor, if only it were that easy.)

But this morning… this morning I felt great.  Super.  Awesome.  Like today is gonna be cool. It might even be okay if I stay pregnant through the next TWO or even THREE days… because the M&Ms… they are multiplying. I don’t think it is magic. I think it is Love & Marriage.


Love & Marriage

I love you, MQD.  It has been one hell of a ride, these last nine months.  We laughed when we started looking at real estate that we were out of minds to get married,  have a baby and buy a house all in one year.  But give us a few more days… and we’ll have made it.  Relatively unscathed.  I know I am no picnic.  And I know it might have felt more like Wartime than Once in a Lifetime at times… but the best days are still ahead of us, sweetheart.  Hang in there, we got this.  And keep stocking the medicine cabinet. xxoo