Listen now. I never said "no sugar" like some of you commenters are implying. I said, like, 90% less sugar, which is pretty much what I've been doing.
Or 80%.
Ok, maybe 70%.
But less of the yummy white grainy stuff is really doing wonders for me. For one, I feel far more alert and am getting fewer energy drops during the day. This is incredibly important when charged with the task of raising three horned little wonders.
Also, even though it's PMS week, I think I've lost some belly weight because Mister Demin is hugging me a little less tightly. Normally I like to be hugged tightly by a Mister, but he was damn near squeezing out my intestines a couple of weeks ago. This is much more comfortable, snuggle-on-the-couch-watching-a-chick-flick hugging.
Yesterday I answered the sultry calls from the semi-sweet chocolate chips in the pantry and made some whole wheat chocolate chip cookies with 3/4 of the recommended brown sugar and half the recommended chocolate. Then I made them about half the normal size and had, well, half of what I normally have.
It was a half day. Half the sugar, half my sanity. You get it.
Today I had a half-sweet vanilla bean latte at Second Cup while I strolled the maul with Spawnling in search of gifts for our birthday party hopping which is coming up on the weekend. We have three to go to, if you can believe that. At least three people are brave enough to invite the gremlins over. We have one family member's party on Saturday and two friends' children on Sunday.
For one child, I went to the other half of the Children's Place. The pink half. It was a tad unnerving wading through all those butterflies and flowers and I almost got lost in between the stockings and the bloomers. Thankfully I spotted some blue up ahead and knew I was near the ever-familiar boys' section.
Having found my way to the cash, I then started chatting it up with a mom with a two-month-old. Her baby was crying off and on like she had been doing the last few minutes. The "off" part came in waves as New Mom stuck a bottle of water in baby's mouth, thus temporarily alleviating the wailing.
'Three months? Wow! You're baby is huge compared to mine!' exclaimed New Mom.
Baby starts crying and New Mom grabs the water bottle. "Are you hungy? How can you be hungry?' New Mom sticks the bottle of water in baby's mouth and turns back to me. 'You know, I'm bottle-feeding and she still eats so much! Like 6oz a feeding. I can't believe it? Here, here honey. Have some water. She can't possibly be hungry... So what is your little one doing that's new?'
I tell her that he's rolling, sitting if he supports himself with his hands, likes his exersaucer, etc, all the while trying to conceal my shock at the two-month-old sucking back water in between screams.
'Aww! That's great. I can't wait until she does those things,' says New Mom.
'It won't be long,' I reply. I have to keep my sentences short for fear of letting my mouth run away with my thoughts. 'First baby?'
'Yes. You?'
'No. He's our third.'
'Wonderful! Well, have a nice... Oh, honey! Why are you crying again? You must want something else. You can't be hungry. I swear, I think she eats too much. Here, have some water again. You probably just want some water...' and New Mom heads to the cash to pay for her baby items.
I'm surprised she didn't say anything about the mortified look on my face. There was so much to say and no good way to say it without completely offending the poor woman. Where do I start? The fact that not all babies are made the same? That formula-fed babies don't necessarily eat less or less often than breastfed ones? That those guidelines for how much a child 'should' be eating are just that: guidelines? That if your baby seems hungry she probably is? That giving water to a healthy two-month-old went out of fashion with paisley disco pants? That substituting your newborn's milk for water is a good way to ensure that she won't be doing all those cutesie little "firsts" any time soon?
Instead I let it go. I'm sure the doctor will pick up on it if the baby's weight gain is poor at her next check-up. I'm sure New Mom won't let her starve. And we were all ignorant new moms once, right? I had no clue what I was doing the first time around, only a moderate idea the second time and am completely overwhelmed with how much I screw up now that I have three.
In fact, today is a great example. In my haste to do everything perfectly, I sent Gutsy to I-hate-school this morning with a yellow shirt and a snack.
This would be rather impressive if it wasn't 'white day' and all the kids weren't wearing white clothing items (which sounds racist but they actually cycle through one colour a month. It's not Little Tots Hitler Preschool, I swear). Instead, my son stuck out like a splotch of dog pee in a fresh snowbank. Lovely. And the snack I prepared for him ended up going back to the van with me for later. I had forgotten that today was a special make-your-snack day. By "forgotten" I mean the 8x11 reminder on my fridge with the picture of the snack they were making was ignored by my overwhelmed brain as I grabbed the carrots out of the crisper.
So I guess New Mom and I have more in common than I would like to think. But at least she has an excuse. What's mine?
Cutting out sugar doesn't count, does it?
Damnit. I tried.
Or 80%.
Ok, maybe 70%.
But less of the yummy white grainy stuff is really doing wonders for me. For one, I feel far more alert and am getting fewer energy drops during the day. This is incredibly important when charged with the task of raising three horned little wonders.
Also, even though it's PMS week, I think I've lost some belly weight because Mister Demin is hugging me a little less tightly. Normally I like to be hugged tightly by a Mister, but he was damn near squeezing out my intestines a couple of weeks ago. This is much more comfortable, snuggle-on-the-couch-watching-a-chick-flick hugging.
Yesterday I answered the sultry calls from the semi-sweet chocolate chips in the pantry and made some whole wheat chocolate chip cookies with 3/4 of the recommended brown sugar and half the recommended chocolate. Then I made them about half the normal size and had, well, half of what I normally have.
It was a half day. Half the sugar, half my sanity. You get it.
Today I had a half-sweet vanilla bean latte at Second Cup while I strolled the maul with Spawnling in search of gifts for our birthday party hopping which is coming up on the weekend. We have three to go to, if you can believe that. At least three people are brave enough to invite the gremlins over. We have one family member's party on Saturday and two friends' children on Sunday.
For one child, I went to the other half of the Children's Place. The pink half. It was a tad unnerving wading through all those butterflies and flowers and I almost got lost in between the stockings and the bloomers. Thankfully I spotted some blue up ahead and knew I was near the ever-familiar boys' section.
Having found my way to the cash, I then started chatting it up with a mom with a two-month-old. Her baby was crying off and on like she had been doing the last few minutes. The "off" part came in waves as New Mom stuck a bottle of water in baby's mouth, thus temporarily alleviating the wailing.
'Three months? Wow! You're baby is huge compared to mine!' exclaimed New Mom.
Baby starts crying and New Mom grabs the water bottle. "Are you hungy? How can you be hungry?' New Mom sticks the bottle of water in baby's mouth and turns back to me. 'You know, I'm bottle-feeding and she still eats so much! Like 6oz a feeding. I can't believe it? Here, here honey. Have some water. She can't possibly be hungry... So what is your little one doing that's new?'
I tell her that he's rolling, sitting if he supports himself with his hands, likes his exersaucer, etc, all the while trying to conceal my shock at the two-month-old sucking back water in between screams.
'Aww! That's great. I can't wait until she does those things,' says New Mom.
'It won't be long,' I reply. I have to keep my sentences short for fear of letting my mouth run away with my thoughts. 'First baby?'
'Yes. You?'
'No. He's our third.'
'Wonderful! Well, have a nice... Oh, honey! Why are you crying again? You must want something else. You can't be hungry. I swear, I think she eats too much. Here, have some water again. You probably just want some water...' and New Mom heads to the cash to pay for her baby items.
I'm surprised she didn't say anything about the mortified look on my face. There was so much to say and no good way to say it without completely offending the poor woman. Where do I start? The fact that not all babies are made the same? That formula-fed babies don't necessarily eat less or less often than breastfed ones? That those guidelines for how much a child 'should' be eating are just that: guidelines? That if your baby seems hungry she probably is? That giving water to a healthy two-month-old went out of fashion with paisley disco pants? That substituting your newborn's milk for water is a good way to ensure that she won't be doing all those cutesie little "firsts" any time soon?
Instead I let it go. I'm sure the doctor will pick up on it if the baby's weight gain is poor at her next check-up. I'm sure New Mom won't let her starve. And we were all ignorant new moms once, right? I had no clue what I was doing the first time around, only a moderate idea the second time and am completely overwhelmed with how much I screw up now that I have three.
In fact, today is a great example. In my haste to do everything perfectly, I sent Gutsy to I-hate-school this morning with a yellow shirt and a snack.
This would be rather impressive if it wasn't 'white day' and all the kids weren't wearing white clothing items (which sounds racist but they actually cycle through one colour a month. It's not Little Tots Hitler Preschool, I swear). Instead, my son stuck out like a splotch of dog pee in a fresh snowbank. Lovely. And the snack I prepared for him ended up going back to the van with me for later. I had forgotten that today was a special make-your-snack day. By "forgotten" I mean the 8x11 reminder on my fridge with the picture of the snack they were making was ignored by my overwhelmed brain as I grabbed the carrots out of the crisper.
So I guess New Mom and I have more in common than I would like to think. But at least she has an excuse. What's mine?
Cutting out sugar doesn't count, does it?
Damnit. I tried.