Day 70 - Awash in a Sea of Granola

Now, Dear Reader, I could tell you about how I cleaned out all of my kitchen drawers (I did) and only found two measly napkin rings to get rid of (disappointing and not at all satisfying), OR I could tell you about The Very Heavy Food Drama going on in our house. Or at least in my head. What's that? You want to hear about the Drama? It's probably not what you think, but read on. I'll try to add a little "Real Housewives of New Jersey" flair to keep it real salacious interesting.

Sigh... I have been reading. Now, I realize this doesn't sound like a bad thing, but... sigh. You see, I have been reading three books that are making me think (which I try not to do unless it's a special occasion), and now I have all this information that I can A- totally ignore or B- choose to do something with. The problem? I can't do A. What are these Tragic Tomes which are causing so much sturm and drang? Two by Michael Pollan, "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and "In Defense of Food", and "Crazy Sexy Diet" by Kris Carr. All three are infinitely readable, incredibly well researched, and do not smell of Preachy-Judginess, and I can heartily recommend that you read at least one if you haven't already (the Michael Pollan books would be my first stop). So why am I whinging and whining? Because there's a lot that's gotta change in the way our family eats.

Throughout my life, I have been blessed with revoltingly good health - I ate well, got oodles of exercise, and simply got lucky. Then, I got pregnant. Starting at about week 6, I had violent hyperemesis (read: mega-barfing 8-9 times per day, including in the middle of the night). I was so miserable - imagine having the puke flu for weeks months on end - that I found myself having a lot of alarmingly dark thoughts that really made me question whether or not I was fit to be a mother. I was hopeful that it would ease by week 14, but it just got worse, and I set up camp in front of The Great Porcelain Throne (I really did). That messy little time of my life drove home the simple fact that I do not want to be sick. Not now, not later. For the record? Sebastian was worth every heave and wretch (which continued through my 7th month), but most illnesses do not have such a cute outcome. And here's what I'm grappling with: 75% of all chronic diseases can be linked to what we put in our mouths (yes, you read that right). Heart disease, diabetes, even the Big C. Heavy. But I do not WANT heavy right now! I want light and fluffy! Like marshmallow creme! Mmmm.... Fluffer-nutters.... Argh, see???!!!! It's hopeless!

So, I am broadening my Quest for Simplicity a bit to include food. The Old Me would have gone nuts and overhauled our kitchen in a night, only to be secretly stashing Oreos (next to the tampons where the hubby would NEVER look) within a week. The New-ish, More Realistic Me is tackling one small change at a time to ensure stickiness. Over the past few days, I've added collard greens to a smoothie (survived), traded my Parmesan cheese for nutritional yeast (still alive), and made a pact with the hubby that we will only buy organic free range chicken and beef (effectively limiting our meat consumption since said items cost $99 a lb). I'll keep you posted since the potential for hilarity is high. One thought I'll leave you with that has stuck with me is this: there is no such thing as "cheap" food - you'll pay for it one way or another. I'd rather part with some green than part with my spleen! ... OK, whatever, blame it on the cells in my brain SCREAMING for cream cheese.