Mainly, not going out and gorging yourself on rich and cheesy goodness.
Which I definitely did
not do a few nights ago.
I mean, I may have eaten some queso. And some chips with that queso. And a margarita. And maybe had ranch dressing on my salad.
But I had a salad at least. I didn’t go all crazy and order the greasiest, cheesiest burrito on the menu. Mostly because I was afraid my insides would implode if I tried to eat that much junk in one sitting. Ha ha.
And, honestly, I felt OK after eating it all. A little too full, maybe, but not as crappy as I expected to feel upon eating so many non-Whole30 foods.
The hardest part of easing back in will be learning not to indulge nearly as often as I was, so we’ll see how that goes. I know there’s a little monster inside of me that likes to eat sugar way, way too much… learning how to better live with that monster is probably going to be the biggest challenge.
I say all of that whilst shoving spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in my mouth, so you know this is going really well so far.
I didn’t mean to let quite so many days pass in between posts; it was as if once I finished the Whole30, I didn’t know what to talk about anymore. As I previously mentioned, finding my groove as a blogger will be hard now that I don’t have a set topic to discuss daily. It means that I have to find things to talk about that are relatively interesting…
A daunting challenge.
To start with, however, we can discuss all things baby!
My brother and sister-in-law are currently expecting a bouncing baby boy. Expecting in the most literal sense of the word: her due date is less than a week away, and baby is already in position and seemingly ready to make his grand appearance. He, however, has decided to slow things down just a few notches and hang out in the bottom of his mom’s uterus rather than come on out for goodness’ sake. What a little punk, already.
I took time off next week around the due date, kind of hoping that he will have been born by the time I make my way up to Nashville on Sunday night. It was definitely a gamble since babies come whenever they’re ready, and that could very well mean he waits until AFTER I leave.
But even if he’s not there, I’ll just hang out in TN for a few days and hope that something exciting happens in the babies-being-born-department. If not, I guess I’m taking off some more time in the coming weeks.
Not to say that I haven’t offered my best advice on the subject:
Clearly, I’ve given some stellar pop-this-baby-out advice. I decided to leave out the part of the conversation where I mentioned how, physically-speaking, squats seemed like the most effective method of getting a baby out of your uterus. But, if you think about it (and that’s a little gross to meditate on for too long), it makes sense.
I know we’re all ready for him to come on, already, so I’m really hoping that he decides to get things moving in the next day or so. Especially for my sweet sister-in-law who’s getting a little uncomfortable.
Also in the vein of childrens and kidlets (two words that my autocorrect didn’t approve of me using at all, trying desperately to change them 3 or 4 times before giving up), I was finally matched in the Big Brother Big Sister program! I got a phone call last Friday from the matching specialist concerning a potential “Little” for me, and finally was able to meet her this morning. She’s incredibly shy, but seemed pretty sweet from what I saw. Both her mom and myself felt good about the match after sitting and chatting for a half hour or so, and though she didn’t offer much in the way of words or conversation (she sat shyly in the corner the whole time I was there), my Little seemed to be pretty happy with the situation.
We will have our first “outing” (their terminology, ha ha) next week most likely. She did not offer any opinions on what she wanted to do, so that means I get to come up with something…
I’ll end on two fun notes from my grocery shopping experience this morning:
1. In which I was accosted by a man who kept pointing at the SAME milk cooler and asking me “What kind of milk is this one?” instead of reading the GIANT labels that clearly said what percentage it was.