You may have seen from other previous posts that I was a bit worried about my weight. One other thing that added to that was all the lovely Mummy forums online, who insist that you should not worry about your weight once the baby arrives, even if it takes six months to get back into your old clothes. Seeing as I had a seven month old and I was still turning sideways to get through doors, it seemed wise to take the matter in hand and go on a diet for God’s sake.
So I went on the Ketogenic diet. This is very close to the Atkins diet Induction stage, but it doesn’t have a limit, you merely keep to the diet until you’re done. I’ve done very well on it, in that I have lost 30lbs since November. It is a matter of some distress to note I still have a huge amount of weight to lose, in that I still have about about another 30lbs to go. However, at least we’re now getting somewhere, and not contemplating chucking ourselves under the Dart (only to find the damn thing couldn’t go over us we’re so fat, leading to a bored announcement over the tannoy that there was a piece of lard on the line causing a disruption to service, but Dublin Bus would honour the tickets, while all the well dressed commuters would give loud tuts as they passed said mortified fatty on their way out of the station, while the security guard would lean down saying, ‘Come on love, lets be having you’ until he called over his mate because my size and girth was just beyond him. Ah Jesus just shoot me!)
ANYWAY. Lardy went on a diet. A strict diet. So no flour, no starches, no carbs, meaning no potatoes, no pasta, no rice, no noodles. No bread. No sugar of any kind so no fruit (which contains fruitose). What I can have is meat, poultry, green veg, eggs and dairy, but only to a set carb amount each day. This diet has led to a lot of weight loss. I’m also back swimming three times a week. So I hope to keep going until at least the summer until things have removed themselves from horror fantasy land.
However, biscuits. Remember them? The Alton Brown inspired treats that I adore? I crave them. Crave them the way Bill Compton craves blood, crave them the way Victoria Beckham craves class, crave them the way the cold craves heat. Crave crave crave. So when my husband said he was getting me some from the Market, please forgive me dear Reader, I was powerless to say no. ‘Don’t get me some!’ I cried, in a tone of voice that said ‘For God’s sake get up and get me some!’ Away he went to hunt and gather. I honestly found it hard to focus on my bundle of joy I was so looking forward to them. Should I have one and save the rest? Or should I have them all, and eat them quickly to get them over with? And what the hell was taking him so long?!!
He got home, and came in with something to eat for himself. Only after half an hour did I ask him where they were, and then I rushed out to get one for myself. Just one, on a saucer for me. And I bit into it.
Humans live in an objective world, with the imposition of our subjective understanding onto it. That means that we can live quite happily in our own minds without really interacting clearly with reality. When it happens that the two interact, it can be a charring experience. I really wanted those biscuits. Wanted them until I was breathless. But like so much of life, the want was subjective. The expectation of them was built up hugely in my mind. The actual experience of them was objective, was ordinary. It was a biscuit.
Don’t get me wrong, it was a nice biscuit. But it was’t the mental reward or the congratulation I somehow had made it out to be. It wasn’t an emotional experience, it was just a biscuit.
I put the question to those on Facebook; what should I do with the other three? The general consensus was to go Cookie Monster Style on them. But the biscuits, like David Bowie’s somewhat dodgy Goblin King from Labyrinth, had no power over me. They were just biscuits. I ate two more, saved the last one for breakfast. Back to the diet as of today.