No, no, I am not leaving this blog. Nor am I uprooting my family, so don’t get any funny ideas from the title.
My farewell is to my secret indulgences. Okay, they aren’t really a secret from my family, but they are a secret from you. And I thought these indulgences were … were not that bad. I thought I was keeping within a reasonable caloric range despite them.
I was wrong.
When pregnant, I don’t like to count calories. It’s too systematic for a natural process like this. And although I don’t formally count any calories, I do keep a running tab in my head — or do I thought. Apparantly, my running tab is about as far from reality as you can get. GRRRREEEEAAAATTTTTT.
Fortunately, I realized this early enough to stop it. And it only became a problem of late. So ultimately, the damage is minimal. That is, by far, a good thing. Sometimes, we all need wake-up calls like this to remind us that all foods are not created equal. And while I would love to continue romancing my buddy Mickey D, my pal Hostess and all the other little friends I have made, they are not worth the struggle I would endure to rid myself of their legacy (fat) later.
Don’t worry. This actually means more cooking, not less. Guess I need to get crackin’ on my homemade apple cake, French apple pie and other apple delights. And I promised my dear husband a homemade chocolate cake (it’s been forever since I last baked a cake!).
Sound counterintuitive? I don’t think it is. If I made the indulgences, I know exactly what is in them, how much, etc. And I can control it. Processed foods, not so much.
Anyway, if you see my friends, tell them I will remember them fondly.