If thin is in, I'm out

When I first had G-man, I couldn't understand fat moms. How could a mom possibly be fat?! After all, it was more than the constant being on the go all day, rocking/dancing/walking/swaying the baby for hours for the few moments of precious sleep peace. I actually pictured my body melting away and my arms finally having the definition of my dreams (well, one arm at least). 

But really, it was that you NEVER got to eat! My husband, Scott, would come home from work and ask what I had for lunch and I'd realize not only had I skipped that, breakfast was an unfulfilled fantasy, too. Anytime food was in the proximity of my mouth, G-man needed something. And most of the time, the closest food was really still at the grocery store, not in my house. One thing that hindered me was not eating fast food. There's really not a lot out there in drive-thru land for a vegetarian and one that likes whole foods, not processed things. If the only time G-man slept was in the car, I either packed a snack (highly unlikely I had time, supplies or foresight to do that) or listened to my tummy rumble as I read a book. Sometimes a book about food. 

And truthfully, I was so busy I didn't even think of food that much. It just dropped off my radar as a low priority. Funny, because I was always thinking about when he would/should eat! 

But back to my fat moms...

If I saw one, I thought she must not be a good mom, daring to take time out of caring for her baby to feed herself. And then, I learned something:

I've discovered the 'out of sight, out of mind' phase was just that, a phase. As G-man started to eat more table food, I found myself confronted with food more and more. And here's where the mushy mamas come in. I'm so fixated on what he's going to eat at each meal and snack, I end up not having enough time/supplies to fix my own. So I grab whatever is easiest, usually not a good choice. Then I down it in the few seconds his back is turned so he can't see it and want it. What happens when you eat too fast? You don't get to enjoy your food. You don't remember eating it. You still crave the experience of eating. You search for something new to eat. And pop that in so quickly whales eating plankton are envious of your rate of intake. The vicious cycle continues.

I do try very hard to make the same meal for us, but sometimes it doesn't work out. I often won't eat what he is because I don't want to use his food. He needs it more! God forbid I run out of veggie dogs when that's the only thing he'll eat and I'm to blame for taking the last one. Or, we don't like the same thing. For example, he likes grilled cheese. I hate it. I hate making it and serving it, but it's good for him (on whole grain bread, of course!). So if he has that, I have something else. If he sees that something else, the game is over. He wants what I have (and his lunch is now property of the dog), which is probably just handfuls of his cereal disappearing into my mouth like a conveyor belt.

I dread going out to eat because it's just wasting money. Sure, I order and eat something, but I don't get to enjoy it or even really taste it. Someone (hint: usually not me or my adult dining companions) is throwing a fit, or tossing food on neighboring patrons, or extricating himself from the high chair. I wolf down the rest of my meal, whisk him away and wonder what's in the cabinet at home. The meal I just paid for and ate in full is processed as just a dream in my mind.

Not getting the chance to properly sit down for a meal at home is wrong, too. I eat way too much standing up because I'm grazing and snacking. Even choosing only healthy snacks doesn't quite cut it if you eat all of them at once.

So to all the new moms out there relishing that they are going to end up less than their pre-pregnancy size in no time flat, I say to you: the pounds, they are a comin'.