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Health & Fitness

Confessions of a Dirty Girl

I was recently asked to comment on how I deal with HRH's food allergies or challenges. As I composed my commentary, I realized that her food challenges are really more about MY challenges.

I was recently asked to comment on how I deal with HRH’s food allergies or challenges. As I composed my commentary, I realized that her food challenges are really more about MY challenges.

She and I are both allergic to chocolate. Our allergy is not a traditional allergy. In fact, I don’t know if it could really be classified as an actual allergy. Chocolate is a huge migraine trigger for all the women in my family. It won’t kill us. But when the migraine hits, we’ll wish it would. Our migraines aren’t just stubborn headaches; they’re minor strokes – complete with vision loss, inability to speak, numbness of limbs and face… it’s not good times.

HRH has never even tasted chocolate.  My theory is it will be easier for her to turn it down if she doesn’t know how dreamy and decadent it is - hence, staving off at least some of our historical pain and suffering. 

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I, however, have been suffering from the wicked migraines since I was 8-years-old and still succumb to chocolate's evil promises of euphoria and salvation. And then I pay the steep, steep price. 

Enforcing the “no chocolate for HRH” rule is effortless. I will, at all costs, spare her that kind of fear and pain. 

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And then there’s clean eating. Clean eating, for the most part, is a diet that eliminates sugar, processed foods, “white” carbs, synthetic fats and Doritos. For several years, now, I have been trying (in vain) to fully embrace the clean eating lifestyle – for me and my family. Do you have any idea how difficult this is? If I can’t say no to a crappy piece of rancid chocolate dangling under my nose once in a while, how can I say no to Doritos, French bread, and alfredo pasta dishes for an entire lifetime?!? Who? Who, I ask you, has that kind of willpower???

There are articles, magazines, and books dedicated to the benefits of clean eating. I read all of it… while cramming so many Fritos into my mouth that I can’t close my lips around my teeth and my palate is shredded and bloodied. Every Sunday, I tell myself, “This is IT!  Monday is a new week. I’m going to do it! Clean eating! Yeah! I can do this!!”

I set myself up for success. The pantry and the fridge is a wasteland. All processed, white-carby, sugary items have been removed. I stocked the house with fruit, veggies, Ezekiel bread, sugar free almond milk, hard boiled eggs, Greek yogurt, skim milk, fish, and chicken. I buy fresh produce, weekly, from our local Farmers Market as well as from the Farmers Market Baskets business in our neighborhood. 

Holy God! The Clean Eating Community would be so proud! Sure, HRH begged for chips and cookies for snacks; but she got apples, celery, red bell peppers and hummus. Today’s lunch was water-packed tuna mixed with fat free Greek yogurt on Ezekiel bread garnished with romaine lettuce recently acquired from the local Farmers Market Baskets gig. I’m pretty sure I heard (slender, healthy) angels rejoicing over our house as a ray of blinding, beautiful light danced on the countertops of the kitchen. Wait! Who’s playing that beautiful harp in the house? 

The harp music was the alarm on my iPhone signaling dinnertime. Suddenly, the lights went dark. The angelic singing changed to sinister, demonic scratching on an electric guitar. The foreboding question was asked, “Mama, where are we going for dinner?”

Dinner. The bane of my existence. If I enjoyed cooking, this clean eating thing would be a snap! But I loathe cooking. It bores me. I tire of the prep, serving, and subsequent clean-up.  It’s not that I’m a poor cook. In fact, I’m pretty darn good at it. But I’m also an expert at cleaning toilets. Do I really need to keep explaining myself, here?

Did you happen to notice that HRH asked where are we going for dinner? As a result of my aversion to dinner food prep, we eat out nearly every night. I used to be ashamed of that. But now I justify it by telling myself I’m supporting local business. How can that be so bad? We sit at a table as a family. We discuss our day. We bond and play games with each other - while someone else does the work AND we support the economy. WINNING!! 

Most restaurants do offer fairly clean dinner options. But do I stick to my guns and order the clean dinners? What do you think?

Tonight’s Dinner at Taco Mac:

  • Unsweetened ice tea (Clean. Pass.)
  • Salad w/ salmon (Clean. Pass.)

I’m doing well, so far. C’mon, B. Don’t spike the ball on the 1-yard line. Whatever that means. 

  • 1 glass of Riesling (Ohhhhhhh…. fail! But not epic fail, yet… Yet.)

Begin slippery slope

  • A couple of El Jefe’s chicken wings (What? It’s chicken!!)

Oh, Lord.  That was gooooood. It’s chicken, right?  Yes. Yes, it is. I’ll have one more. No… no, two more. No. Four more. Four, and that’s it!

FAIL! There it is, folks. The epic fail. Clean eating – Day 1 – FAIL! Again.

I am ashamed as a clean eater and as a mother. I know I am setting a poor example for HRH.  It’s so easy to enforce the no chocolate rule for her (and in front of her, anyways). That’s a tangible outcome we can see and feel. She’s seen me racked with pain. She knows I’ve been to the ER because nothing else would pull the metaphorical ice pick from my frontal lobe. She’s heard me try to talk when I can’t get my mouth to work. The deterrent is real, and therefore, easy. 

But heart health, diabetes prevention, healthy weight, cholesterol… that’s a little more difficult to get in front of her. She’s never seen or experienced the fallout of “dirty” eating.  And even for those of us who have, it’s still not painful enough to make us do the right thing.  I don’t know why. Is dirty food so intoxicating that we get lost in the moment and forget the evils it can and will do to us? 

I’m afraid the answer is yes. 

And so, tomorrow’s another day and I will attempt to be clean, again. Some days I will pass with flying colors. Some days I will fail miserably. But every day I will pound into her head the importance of healthy living and making good choices and hope it sticks… regardless of my own dirty actions. 

I am painfully aware of the mixed messages I am sending; but at the same time, I cannot shelter her from the pitfalls of humanity. Instead, I brush myself off, confess my mistakes, help her learn even if I am the bad example, and continue to set better examples - bit by bit - every day. 

-B(Sting)

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