Breakfast is not on the agenda before dropping the Wrigglato off at nursery on a Friday. It has to wait till I’ve raced around getting him ready, getting me dressed, handing him over, getting out on a run before I get too comfortable back at home and then getting showered.
Even though we’re up from 6am, it’s 9:30 before I actually sit down to fill my grumbling belly. As I sip on my kale, banana, peanut butter and almond milk smoothie (sounds grim but a cheeky scoop of vanilla protein ensures it tastes more like a milkshake), I reminisce on the glory days of pregnancy.
To be quite honest, I wasn’t the most massive fan of pregnancy. I loved feeling my bump but I got killer heartburn, pins and needles and felt like the Stay Puft marshmallow man with my swollen feet, ankles and face. One absolute winner though was that I didn’t really suffer from morning sickness. Therefore I was able to indulge my cravings without restraint: almond croissants. One for breakfast. One for a mid-morning snackette. Maybe even one snuck in during the afternoon as a pre-dinner appetiser. There was no guilt. Whatsoever. They say listen to your body. My body wanted beige!
I’m not sure whether it’s a boy thing. Some of my friends pregnant with girls were craving green and vitamin-laden meals. The thought of a piece of broccoli made me bilious. Contemplating carrots was enough to cause queasiness. I was most certainly having a boy. Well – 20% boy, 50% croissant and 30% Haribo (perhaps this was the inspiration for his name!) All you read says “feed the foetus foods rich in goodness.” That’s a little tricky when vegetables become the spawn of Satan and you crave sweet, carbolicious goodies. I wanted to bury myself in a buffet of beigness – mashed potato, toast, pastries and biscuits. All the biscuits!
They really were the halcyon days. There’s no baby to blame for the weight gain and rapid expansion any more. Now Christmas is over I’ve not even got that meagre excuse. Hence my life is kale smoothies and tenderstems over treats. But does anyone find, the second you start ‘healthy eating’ – in my world we call that a diet, not a lifestyle choice – you begin to dream of all the naughties. Day to day I’m pretty good and will be satisfied with an apple and peanut butter (let’s face it, peanut butter addiction is real) but it gets to that point in the evening when I would ram-raid Tescos in my PJs just to get my hands on a packet of chocolate hobnobs. These are bonafide cravings. And in their honour, today’s Freedom Friday Top Three are my top three treats:
One – Almond Croissants
The buttery crunch as the crisp shell flakes in to your mouth. The sweet, marzipan taste of the almond paste. This my friends, is joy. Tescos bakery will suffice but note they have been sitting there all day being fingered by all and sundry as they toss up between this delight and a vanilla crown. What you want is a nice, cozy coffee shop where their croissants are the size of your face and have the doughy, warmth of being freshly cooked. You will inevitably end up with pastry dandruff flakes covering your clothes and a powdery nose from the icing sugar that may look like you have a problem with class-A narcotics. But isn’t it worth it for that post-pastry, almond-pastey glow!
Two – Chocolate Malted Milks
The malted milk biscuit. Such a simple little affair. Until some bloody genius had the idea of dipping it in bloody milk chocolate. Never has a happier marriage been made. You’ll notice the red warning on fat, saturates and sugars for one biscuit. Laughable – who ever eats one biscuit? Two-hundred and fifty grams in my belly in the time it takes to work out where the calories are going to end up first – my belly or straight to my thighs. And by the time you are in a glorious post-malted milk sugar coma you really couldn’t give two hoots anyway. All hail the biscuit under-dog.
Three – Haribo
Sweets. My nemesis. Since the demise of Woolworths and their pick’n’mix of the Gods, my dentist was concerned he may go out of business. He can breathe easy though because as long as there is Haribo in the world, there will be fillings.
This sugary little guilty pleasure is very much down to preference. Ever since eating an entire pack of sours at university, whilst trying to finish an essay, gave me mouth ulcers, these are not my Haribo of choice. I wouldn’t kick a bag of starmix out of bed but kiddie supermix is where it’s at. It’s the juicy, fruity little men, that you cannibalistically bite the heads off first, that do it. I like to save them till last in some strange colourful cult – line them up, bite their heads off, devour them! Who needs therapy when you have man-eating and a sugar high.
So there you have it – three things guaranteed to put a smile on my face and an extra five pounds on my flesh. I really wish I could be one of those people satisfied by a carrot stick and a midget tree but as much as I can quash my cravings now there’s no jelly bean growing inside, I’d opt for these three every time!
What is your naughty treat? Did you or your partner have any bonkers cravings during pregnancy? What is the one treat you couldn’t live without? Are you someone who is satisfied by the healthier options (if so, what’s your darned secret?).
Happy Friday folks!