Bigger Picture Moment: When Cravings and Hormones Collide

Yesterday, I came very close to declaring myself incompetent. 

By the bright and tender hour of 9am, I'd already forgotten both my daughter's lunch box and my empty gas tank.  We dashed across town to school, praying the fumes would carry us onward, and I fixed the left-behind lunch after gassing up on the way home.  It was all very fixable.

Fixable with nachos, that is. 

Because for some reason, the crunch and spice of carnival quality (or, lack of quality) nachos are what my body needs more than anything these days, I spent the morning fantasizing about them.  I considered 9:30 too early to indulge in such a snack, so I waited.  I wrote a little bit.  I folded some laundry.  I kept one eye on the clock, and at EXACTLY 11am I was out the door.  (In my slippers, no less.)

I drove to the nearest Taco Bell (because where else can you find the drippy kind of yellow cheese sauce that passes for food-product?  Seriously, where?  It's not Velveeta, it's not queso...it's an anomaly.) and whipped around the drive-thru.  I scanned the list of nacho options and decided all I really wanted (nay: NEEDED) was the plain old chips and dip, although the Grande choices and additions didn't seem half bad, either...

Finally at the cashier window, I rolled down my window, pulled off my sunglasses, and peered in at the gentleman cashier.  He looked at me with amusement, his eyebrows high. 

I stared back at him politely, waiting for...

Ah.  My mouth popped open as my misstep became clear.  I'd driven straight past the order-box, and now I was staring at a man who was wondering what sort of tomfoolery I could possibly be up to.

"Uh...I didn't....order...did I."  My face was hot despite the cool breeze. 

He shook his head with a belly laugh.  "Nope, you sure didn't.  Drove right past the box with your window shut tight."

I cleared my throat and rummaged in my coin holder, despite the fact that -- you know -- I still hadn't received a total.  "I, uh...I have no idea what just happened," I giggled nervously.  "Um, do I need to reverse and make an order, or..."

Thank goodness he said no, because my incapacity to order a 99-cent nacho would have surely precluded me from having the ability to drive backwards around a precise curve without also backing over the order box with my rear-fender. 

Still embarrassed, I ordered the nachos, paid, and (blessedly) pulled forward to meet the anonymity of the pick-up window. 

It was mortifying, but not so much so as to have made me abandon my craving.  I dove into the nachos like they were my last nachos, ever -- and they very well may be, because I don't plan on going through that drive-thru again in this lifetime.  (Thank heavens for dutiful husbands, though...)

To make myself feel better, I made my favorite homemade bread recipe for dinner that evening.  The recipe I've made a couple of times a month for the past...year?  The recipe I have memorized and cradled in my heart?

I made it wrong.  I forgot the salt and oil.  It was terrible.

To make myself feel better again, I thumped around the kitchen in search of lemons.  Not lemons but lemon-flavored snacks.  (Nachos to lemons in less than 12 hours...fickle.)  To my poor, confused husband, I lamented: "I need lemons.  Like...creamy lemons.  Creamy, cold lemons.  Creamy, cold, sweet lemons.  Like, lemon sorbet.  No!  Lemon ice cream." 

Ever helpful, Justin's eyes got bright.  "Hey!  Let's make some lemonade and freeze it until it gets slushy!"

I drew back in horror.  "That sounds disgusting!!"

And then I burst into tears.  He was only trying to help, and he was being so sweet, and he smelled so good, and I loved him SO VERY MUCH with a sudden FEROCITY that overwhelmed me...

It wasn't pretty.  I sobbed and snotted and heaved. 

Justin rushed out the door with a promise to fix me, and returned a few minutes later with a lemon cream-slush.  I was still catching my breath and drying my eyes.  The cream-slush was perfect in every way and I almost cried with joy and love and thankfulness.

And the meaning behind all of this hormonal incompetence? 

I woke up this morning with complete sanity.  Today is another day.  As will tomorrow be.  I'll get through this terror of widely-swinging cravings and hormonal shifts.

Plus, I found some nacho-cheese sauce at the grocery store.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful.  Please join Hyacynth at Undercover Mother for more moments, and to share your own!