So when I said yesterday I hadn't gained any weight, I realized that might piss some people off. But here's the thing--it's actually not that much fun for me.
Generally speaking, I gain weight like anybody else. More during the holidays, less during the summer when I'm contemplating myself in a bikini and reconsidering apple pie for breakfast. But I've always had blood sugar problems, and I always need to snack. Certainly now more than ever. And snacking I am--all the time. But it isn't enough, and no matter that I've just had fifteen almonds two seconds ago, I'll blink and suddenly I'll be so hungry I'm ready to eat my arm off. This makes going out to get food difficult.
Since the pregnancy book I purchased is the notoriously food-nazi-ish What To Expect When You're Expecting, I've been hyper careful about eating well. Lots of greens, lots of whole grains--we're even eating tofu, for crying out loud. And it's just not cutting it. Me eating until I'm full? Not enough. I need to break every common-sense rule about eating, and have excessively large dinners and dessert and a snack before bed, or I wake up in a state of extreme starvation.
I know this, but I can't seem to manage it. I'm working on it.
In the meantime, I'm kind of blowing off What To Expect. Veggies be damned--they're delicious, but just not filling enough. I need risotto. I need bread. I need heavy cream. Today, anyway. For example: today I had salad with leftover slices of steak (I brought the salad and the steak from home, but the starvation hit before I'd run to the store to buy salad dressing, so I panicked and bought a dressing I actually really dislike. And then dumped way too much of it on the salad. Sigh). This was not enough food. Dave, having heard much of my insta-starvation, sent me to Whole Foods, presumably for quinoa and carrots. But I didn't get either of those things.
I got bread pudding. And it was the best. freaking. bread pudding I've ever had. EVER. Oh my God. It was very eggy, but still kinda carmelized on top, and not too sweet, but oh so creamy. I think I might have to get more tomorrow. Or possibly this afternoon.
So that's today's thing. And probably tomorrow's, really, because it was just that good. Yesterday, it was deviled eggs. I required deviled eggs. Dave was working at home, and so offered to do the boiling of the eggs, so I could whip 'em up when I got off work. We joked a bit about Dave's previous egg-boiling misadventures, and I instructed him to just use The Joy of Cooking and follow the directions, and was confident all would be fine.
I got a call an hour later.
"Um, I just took the eggs out."
"Okay," I said. "Thanks for doing that for me."
"Yeah," he coughed. "But see, I put them in forty-five minutes ago."
I am fairly confident that is not what The Joy of Cooking said to do.
I was torn between laughing at the utter incompetence (Boiling eggs. It is not a difficult task) and laughing because he simply had to be making it up. Nobody can be that bad at boiling eggs. Dave has made far more complicated things than boiled eggs. Surely this was just to get back at me for mocking his egg-boiling abilities earlier.
Nope. Those were some over-boiled eggs. I think he has some kind of egg-boiling mental block going on.
He did boil more eggs after we got off the phone. And for the fourteen minutes called for. (Hooray! Mental block overcome!) And we had brussels sprouts, asparagus, and deviled eggs for dinner.
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