I must admit, the way I look at food has changed significantly over the years. I've pretty much always had a love/hate relationship with food. I love good tasting food and the way it makes me feel (at least on a palate satisfied, emotional soothing level), but I hate the way I crave it and how many foods seem to pack the pounds on my body. I've also had this strange feeling that I must eat this (fill in the blank) because this may be the last time I eat it (yes these are hard economic times, but I know I'll eat again). Then there's the constant roller coaster of dieting that I've been on my entire life. What the heck is a diet for any way?! Isn't the point to make a lifestyle change so you don't want to just eat pizza and brownies every day? Because if all I eat is celery, sooner or later when I start adding in more food choices I'll gain weight.
The last 7 months of my life has taught me a great deal. First, I love food and that's okay, as long as I love it for the right reasons. Do I love it because I'm stressed out and it's a comfort? Or do I love it because it gives my body the strength and nourishment it so desperately needs (and hopefully is yummy too)? Every day, I get closer and closer to loving food for the right reasons (although sometimes I do slip back into old habits of comforting myself with food).
For those that don't remember, I was on a “diet” from January until the end of May when I found out I was pregnant. I did extremely well, lost a bunch of weight and cured some health conditions and started to permanently change the way I eat. That's when this baby boy inside of me decided to turn my food world upside down. One day I love a food, the next day it makes me want to puke. One day I can go 4 hours without eating no problem, the next I get horribly sick at about 2 hours. My body was in total havoc! Unhealthy foods sat okay with me while healthy foods made me sick. The thought of some of my favorite meals made me want to lose my lunch. And then a glorious thing happened, I entered week 12 of my pregnancy.
Now my body is behaving much nicer (at least with regards to food, not with regards to my hair falling out, my back hurting all the time, and a lack of sleep). And the way I look at food, pretty much changed. Now I eat only because my body is telling me to (to be more specific, my baby is telling me to. He's very demanding!). And when I no longer have the hunger pain, I stop. So what if I'm not stuffed full and there's food still on my plate, that's okay. Yeah I know there are starving kids in China, but me over-eating is not going to feed those kids in China. It's just going to make me want to eat more at the next meal and the next. So really, I'm helping those starving kids by NOT over-eating (not mention my own because he also gets mad at me when I over eat). Plus, I know I'm going to eat again in 2 hours anyway, so I don't want to eat too much now. If I'm still hungry, I'll just eat later. No big deal.
So what's the point of my ramblings you ask? Well, I've been doing a lot of research lately on food, the way we think about it based on our culture, socio-economic status, etc. and it's very fascinating. And I'm definitely developing myself a “how-to” parent guide with respects to food and my children. I don't want my children to make the same mistakes I did and I definitely want them to be healthier than I've been. Sure, I know I'll slip up here and there, and things I swear I'll never do will probably be done, but education is the first step. And then follow-through is the next. Hear I come follow through!
My Parents’ House
6 years ago