So another whole30 finished. Kind of. (Psst. Goals for this one. What I ate in a week.)
This one actually ended up being a whole21. We curtailed because I wanted to focus on reintroduction, and we only had so much time before Thanksgiving.
On Day 22, I had popcorn after dinner. On Days 26-27, I had cheese. Day 29 was gluten. Day 32 (Thanksgiving), wine. After that we head to Naples so I guess it will be pizza reintroduction, followed by probably a week (or more) of recovery.
So not too long ago, one of my fave podcasts (which I’m listening to even MORE now) did a “what we ate” roundup. (Episode 72 of The Mom Hour.) We’re not talking the perfect meal plan. We’re talking about how it actually went down.
Because I’ve been texting pics to my whole30 buddy, I’ve got PLENTY of evidence of how it actually went down. The good, the bad, and the ugly. (And I was too lazy to edit these photos so all of them are pretty ugly. Apologies.)
If you’re catching up, these are my goals for this whole30. And this is what I actually ate for week 1:
So I think I’ve mentioned that in October we undertook our most ambitious trip to date, a two week road trip in the Balkans. We had a ton of fun.
Because I’ve gotten some questions about it, here is the nitty gritty on what we actually did. I’ll talk more later on the awesome places we stayed.
I’ll also talk more later on our opinions. The things we most enjoyed. The things we might skip.
I will say that this is a very relaxed itinerary. You could shave several days off of this schedule and still do everything plus some. We liked having the extra time; it made it feel like more of a vacation instead of just a trip.
Let’s get to it.
My Mom started going gray at 12. Or 11. Or 13 depending on how she tells the story.
Either way, it was super early.
With fairly light hair though, it looked like she was getting highlights. NBD.
I don’t remember the exact year, but I got my first gray hairs in my teens.
So I’m on Whole30 Day number three. I’ve decided to consciously uncouple from caffeine (again), and I’ve FINALLY stopped with the splitting afternoon headaches. Huzzah!
Other than that, things don’t feel so different than usual other than possibly spending even more time on food prep because James is whole30-ing as well, and I’m trying to send him out the door with lunch and breakfast.
I am hoping to:
I have a confession to make.
I’m scared of my kids.
Not like, boo, creepy scared.
More just scared of the unknown. Scared of things being out of control. Scared of tantrums. Scared of meltdowns. Scared of getting ourselves into a situation that I can’t get us out of. Continue reading
We just got back from a massive two week road trip.
Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia, and Slovenia.
It was awesome. Not every moment, of course (I’m looking at you, food poisoning in Sarajevo). But a fun trip.
We took our Kinderwagon, but I was excited to have completely stoller-free days too. Like at Plitvice Falls, Lake Bled, Kotor, and the Postojna Cave. They did a lot of walking. (I was so proud.) We also did a lot of carrying. Natch.
When we busted out the stroller for a full day in Ljubljana, I was glad to have it, but I was also dreading it.
Melissa Hartwig’s new book Food Freedom Forever dropped this month. So you know I was all over that like . . . hmm. Like my kids licking the glass at the Lego store. Like my kids licking the glass at a bakery. Like my kids licking the glass at . . . you get the idea. (Similes FTW!) I guess I’m saying I approached the book release with a childlike enthusiasm.
My kids say some pretty hilarious things. I’ve been told that I used to say hilarious things once, but my parents didn’t write it down and cannot remember even one witty anecdote. Inspired by YHL’s Clara Conversations, I wanted to share some isms as I collect a critical mass.
Do you ever find yourself holding back a little because of your kids? Sort of deferring to their enjoyment?
No, you get up there, I don’t need to press my nose to the glass at the aquarium. No, you go on the ride, I’ll watch you.
Some of these things make sense because I don’t really want to do them.
Other times . . . I don’t know. Maybe a part of me wants to, but I’ve convinced myself I don’t? Maybe I just worry what other people will think?
Maybe my default is just not to do the things now.
Hmm. I don’t love that.
I do get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing my kids do stuff. Tons. Seeing them figure it out. Seeing their little faces light up with joy. Seeing them experience stuff for the first time. It’s pretty special.
We were in Malta last week. This trip we visited the Malta Falconry Centre. We saw the 11:00 AM show.
As a part of the show, they offered to let us put on the leather glove and hold an owl. The boys were excited, and I was glad they were able to do it. I was worried they would be too small.
Then they offered me the glove.
My first thought was to demur. No, I shouldn’t hold up the show. No, I already had my fun getting to see the kids. Nonononono.
Then I looked around and thought, “There are 12 people here. They are all holding the owl. You aren’t holding up the show. Just do it.”
So I put on the glove, and the owl perched on my hand. And I giggled with joy. The same sort of giggle that escaped my mouth during the barrel race in Montepulciano. Just an excitement that things like this exist in the world.
So this is me recommitting myself. Enjoy the kids, but get in the game. Heck yes, I want to hold the owl!
(Owl pic on my Instagram. I’ve tried embedding it here 5x, but I can’t get it to work.)
Roman Reboot 