Sweet Tooth

I make really, really strong efforts to eat well. My meals--and I eat four of them instead of just three--are generally filled with greens and veggies and whole grains and good fats. We eat very few things that come from boxes or packages, especially since I'm on the pregnancy diet and don't do well with white rice or flour. This is made easier because I have a partner who really supports good eating habits.

As much as I make him sound like a nincompoop in the kitchen, I have to point out that while I was in Arizona, he planned a week's worth of healthy meals and had all the ingredients purchased for when I got back: farro in vegetable broth, paninis on whole grain bread, whole wheat pizza with fresh tomatoes, spinach salad...lots of good things.

But I can't stop eating sweets! I feel literally incapable of not eating mass quantities of ice cream, dark chocolate and, recently, Cadbury mini eggs. I feel such guilt over the mini eggs that I've taken to hiding them in my coat pocket to conceal how many I'm really snacking on, only to forget how many are in there and show up in my office with a melty, poop-looking pocket.

And then everyone I know is selling baked goods. The damn Girl Scouts affront me everywhere I turn with their Thin Mints and Samoas. The grad student book sale includes snickerdoodles and macaroons, which I bought instead of books. And ate right there before the elevator even arrived.

Instead of rewarding myself with sweet treats when I finish my work, I've taken this backwards sort of view where I reward myself with filling out grade books if I can just resist the mini eggs for two hours. It's very twisted.

I am fearful that my baby will come out with the same sweet tooth, the same sugar addiction. Then he'll get fat and obese and have diabetes. I started following the cupcake shop on Twitter, for God's sake! I need an intervention. Like Miranda from Sex and the City, I need the Betty Crocker Clinic.