Well, either Whole30 really does have me on a rollercoaster of energy (she’s up! she’s down! the highest peak! the lowest valley!) or another culprit is to blame. I’m thinking it’s a combination of both. It’s not that I fail to recognize the impact of a hunk of dramamine I bit off this morning, necessitated by the arrival at our boat launch only to find the boat rocking the dock up and down. I get it – that made my brain as choppy as the open water. But I don’t want to put all the blame on 1/2 of a 1/2 serving of meclazine. I’ve found this food challenge impossibly squidgy to nail down and I swear every OTHER day I feel good. Guess I how I feel the rest of the days?
Bad/tired/hungry/weird days like today leave me feeling far less optimistic about the future than chipper days like the last time I wrote. I’m feeling a little grumbly/dizzy, and I reallllllly want to sip a gingerale to make me feel better. Even if it only works in my mind, and produces no actual positive benefit to my body. I’m feeling crankytired, so I reallllly want to enjoy something sweet and comforting to boost my spirit and temporarily spike my energy. And I’m OVER the forever-long cooking process (not to mention the 30,000 minutes my husband & I each seem to spend washing dishes, cookware, prep bowls and the like), so I realllllly want to grab a pre-made granola bar, fix myself a sandwich on a napkin (sans plate means sans dishwashing!) or go to Starbucks to eat both of those things with my grande nonfat latte.
I realized today that my kids are “suffering” a little, too. Not because we are restricting their intake to a similarly small pool of foodstuffs, but because: a)mommy & daddy are always cooking (my son tonight asked me what recipe I was looking for in Well Fed and when I asked how he knew it was a recipe book he replied, “Daddy is ALWAYS looking in there for a recipe”); b)the things we are always cooking offer no appeal in taste or smell, apparently, to my children (they are always whining about the smell!); c)dinner is now a slap-together-something-for-the-kids affair, since we end up preparing and eating dinner the two of us much later. We enjoyed those 5pm powwows over the table, even if one kid was always spilling something and the other couldn’t stop talking long enough to take a bite. Even if the food was “semi homemade” and probably 10X less healthy (with 10X more sodium). It was nice to have and share a meal, rather than sit and watch them eat and try to remember not to instinctively lick the mac-and-cheese spoon.
Hopefully as we adjust after the 30 days, we’ll find better ways to eat/cook/schedule ourselves back to the dinner table. But right now all I can think about is how tired and blargy I feel AGAIN, and how that makes me realllllly want some hot chocolate. Mmmmmm.