Yes, I’m still doing the food insanity, somewhere around week 4 and a half it’d become such a habit I forgot to log my food. By the time I realized I hadn’t done it, it’d been almost a week.
I’m an organized soul, let me unclutter your life. (don’t, really… you’ll never forgive me.)
In the first 3 weeks, I dropped about 20 pounds and six inches out of my midsection, but I kept forgetting to check after that. Apparently, nothing else has moved from my midsection another 5? 6? weeks later, but I’ve noticed other stuff or I’d be insanely depressed. My last check had be averaging about 727 calories/day.
In the past couple weeks, I have been able to navigate stores without the assistance of a cart. For me this has been big. The pain started first and the weight followed, one exacerbating the other. It was three years before diabetes showed up. Walking around a store was hell and not just because I detest shopping. If you’ve ever seen the first steps of the TinMan after Dorothy gave him an oiling (that’s what he said) or someone trying to move their body in spite of paralysis, this is roughly how I managed to get around. No amount of pain pills could touch it.
I decided we were going to get up at buttass’o’ clock one Saturday and pick blueberries. We were out there until we filled 2 buckets, which took Spawn and I a little over an hour. It was disgustingly hot even at 7am, but we survived and physically, I was fine. I haven’t been fine in years.
Spawn asked their best friend if they wanted to join us, which they did but they had their six year old cousin visiting so they had to join us as well.
We already had plans to hit our favorite Saturday breakfast spot when we were done (they have about six or more omelets I can totally eat and still stay within range).
Pain In The Ass aka the 6 year old, only likes waffles. Plain waffles.
Our favorite spot only has french toast.
I got to hear about two hours worth of shit PITA doesn’t like, but also has never tried.
I know in my logical brain Spawn also went through this phase, but this child has never heard the word “no.” Ever.
Spawn’s BFF exemplified a patience I’ve only seen in the most kindest of souls. I kind of felt sorry that they had to play parent to just a PITA…but then, they could have left it at home too.
PITA and I butted heads only twice. The first happened when they had picked blueberries for about fifteen minutes and determined themselves bored and demanding we leave. My response was they were told beforehand that I wanted two buckets for us before we left, and if they were done they could either help make that go faster or find something to enjoy about the place until we were done.
The second, PITA dozed off on the way to breakfast choice number two (we checked the menu to make sure plain waffles were on it). When we got there Spawn’s BFF couldn’t get it out of the car. I poked my head in on the other side and said “You knew were coming here, so get out of my car please.” It did.
Spawn asked if I yelled at them, I told them I didn’t have to, I’m terrifying enough without volume.
In spite of it all, I still had a pretty lovely but insanely hot day with three kids, a good breakfast (spinach crepe with chicken) which I forgot included potatoes pancakes. Thankfully, they were small, and I managed to mangle them a bit and eat about 2 tiny bites so I could call them touched without being devoured, while small enough I didn’t feel bad about leaving it.
The blueberries though were a bit on the small side. I’m sure part of it was the season started earlier this year and I didn’t realize it until later, combined with the need to hurry so I didn’t hear “I’m bored, when are we leaving?” before I throttled someone’s kid and buried it under one of the bushes.
But fuck yeah, I picked mah own muthafuckin blueberries, bitches!