Only it's not 'whatever' because this is my life and I'm beginning to remember what it was like to take care of myself. I know it's soooo Stuart Smally, but it's true. I used to feel really uncomfortable being high maintenance in restaurants or over at others' houses for meals. When you factor in my growing discomfort with the life that was happening around me without knowing what to do about it (relationship issues), that's a lot of discomfort to walk around with. Here's the crazy segue. So I thought that I needed to start eating "normally" again. I thought that eating everything that over people ate was the route to being healthy. I was so wrong. As I began adding the foods back into my diet that I can't tolerate, I began having all of the side effects: both physical and emotional. I got into the obsession that food would fix it. As my weight skyrocketed and I continued to stop for donuts on the way... I'll be honest: the donuts were not on the way; they were the destination.
And order in pizza. And make late night cake runs. And demand a Costco cake for Mother's Day when we had one guest for lunch. The cake that I got myself and ate mostly myself. Yes. I needed to eat sugar, dairy and wheat. My problem was that I had been depriving myself and I needed to stop.
So now I am remembering that I feel better not only physically but emotionally when I am eating the way I need to eat. Like I'm worth the trouble. And maybe that's one insidious root of this thing: I'm just not worth it. Sorry everyone. I should just shut up and accommodate. I'm all cringy when I decline dessert, like I'm "that chick." Oh. I can't have the quiche? How unutterably rude of me!
It feels like slipping into those soft button up jeans to say "I'm actually allergic..." Jeans that I have not been able to wear for almost a decade.

I am not sure that it's totally obvious but I am in some sort of fugue state as I have not really slept since Thursday night, what with listening for baby's breathing and comforting 3 year old all night and the fact that I can't lie down without coughing up my lungs so the sleep I do get is gotten sitting up. I didn't think it was possible when I first read of such a thing in "Gone With the Wind" (the ladies sleeping sitting up because of their hair), but I realize that it is. I think I was dreaming I was a news anchor at one point.

So, to wrap it up: dairy - yes I had it. Thrice.
But no wheat or sugar and I am not done. Not by a long shot. Buddy.