Several years ago, in my former life, I used to do a lot of cooking. I cooked breakfast, lunch dinner, snacks, bread, desert…..you name it, I cooked it. I spent 90% of my day in the kitchen. It seemed like as soon as I was done cleaning up after a meal, it was time to start on the next one. Such is the life of a mother of young children. Our lives revolve around food (and poop).
I became very skilled at ‘throwing things together’ for dinner. I could take a quick inventory and create something that called for whatever we had on hand. I was never one for going to the store with a recipe or even a list. I didn’t usually have any complaints. I do remember my husband asking if I had used a recipe now and then, and when I said no he’d encourage the kids to “enjoy it, because it’s a one of a kind!” I took it as a compliment. The only thing he ever complained about was corn. I used to put corn in everything…you know, to solidify the Mexican nature of the dish. Apparently, that wasn’t in the bylaws of Mexican cooking as far as he was concerned.
It amazes me now, looking back, at how clueless I was about nutrition. Sure, I made my own bread from freshly ground wheat, didn’t buy premade packaged food much, and stuffed the kids full of pasta and potatoes, but…wait a minute. There is the evidence you need. Carbs. I fed my family carbs. Rice, beans, potatoes, pasta….
If you come to my house today, you will find few carbs lurking about. I buy them for the kids in the form of tortillas and sweet potatoes, but that is about it. I have slowly started converting them to my low carb diet and they don’t even realize it. Gone are the days of binging on Lays chips and Ranch dip (oh how I long for you….). No more monster nachos for an afterschool snack along side a plate of brownies (warm). I don’t even have Oreos in the house right now.
Some might say my diet is extreme…and they might be right…but I feel so much better. I used to stay up late and stuff myself full of greasy cheese, chips, and ice cream (not all together) while watching a movie with Brad. I wondered why I found myself regularly in the fetal position on the floor, unable to move. Did I mention I got smarter?
Apparently, dairy, fried foods, corn, and all things normally termed “comfort food”, are not for my belly. It sends troops of rebel forces out to destroy my innards in full formation.
Today I felt weak. I wanted guacamole. All I had was stale corn chips to shovel it in. The guac is fine. The chips are death. It wasn’t worth it! Seriously, if I am going to commit stomachicide, I should go for the warm brownies instead.
Because I said so.