happy in my little house

This makes me crazy.

But it also makes me feel happy and safe in my little house, not making waves, not having my voice squashed by some corporate and/or political monster (if those terms can be distinguished anymore, I'm not sure - corporate and political I mean, not political and monster :)

It is a scary world. The corruption blows my mind. Once again, I am sooooo (insert a thousand o's) thankful to have my peaceful little life. If my biggest problem in the run of a typical day is sleepiness, a cranky toddler or a leaky pooy diaper, I have it very easy. I cherish my freedom. Although my ability to voice my faith publicly is diminishing as ultra-tolerance is the word of the day and absolutes, as well as anyone who believe in them, become criminal, I can still practice my faith with more freedom than so many in the world. I can put my kids down for a nap in the afternoon without hearing gunshots or bombs going off outside their windows. We have windows. We have a house. A new one. A full fridge with a variety and interesting selection of foods. I can go to church openly, read my Bible (quietly to myself) in public. I think those days are numbered, but I am enjoying them immensely in the meantime. Thank You, God, for a peaceful country, and all the blessings I enjoy in my life.

Irish donut, anybody?

I am craving a soft serve cone today so bad it isn't fit. It's all Anna's fault. The power of suggestion. She likes to pretend about all these treats she has 'made', so she is forever offering me these delectable imaginary treats I have to pretend to eat, and then I get hungry for them, for REAL. *sigh* Doesn't help with that whole post-partum weight loss thing.

She is doing fine, in reference to 2 posts ago. Yay!

SO...
There seems to be two camps (I will oversimplify and reduce many perspectives to two) , that I didn't even realize existed. There is a whole world out there of blogging moms who jokingly say they are endeavoring to 'lower the bar' for parents everywhere, call themselves white trash mom, and the like, with pride (not that there's anything wrong with that). But they have set themselves up against another camp they refer to as the Martha Stewart Moms. I know people have given me some irritated comments in the past about being too smiley, (do you ever wipe that stupid thing off your face???) and disgusted at various habits, like anything one makes from scratch or whatever else they see as being Mrs. Cleaver-ish.

Look, people-who-might-criticize-but-aren't-reading-this, People are just living their lives how they want. Aren't we all. Don't be a hate-a.

I bet if you talked to those women you consider Martha Stewart Moms, you would find they have their fair share of insanity in their life, and there are more than ample times where their hair is afro-ed and their house a mess. Maybe you just missed that day. They undoubtedly have a list of failures, inadequacies or challenges you may not see but are potentially painful hurdles for them. Everybody does.

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Funny quotes from Anna:

"Yook, dat man has a smushtash." (moustache)

after finishing an English muffin Daddy had given her, "Uhm, Daddy? Can I have another... uh...Iwish .... donut?"
She wasn't certain, but knew it was some kind of British-Isles-vicinity pastry.

can't handle it.

Just too beautiful.

The following 2 pictures are from Niamh's bathtime, and Anna was helping me bathe her.

Aren't they sweet?

What a day will bring...

One never knows.

Last night Chris and I got home to late to find Anna still up because.. she was peeing blood. She was, however, completely cool about it, and even thought it was fun that her "pee is pink!!" Yay! I guess... She had no pain or discomfort of any kind, and was perfectly happy and energetic. However, he still took her in to outpatients, as it was a little too dark for us to feel comfortable putting it off.

Back home after a short exam, I find out that more than likely, it is just a small broken vessel from one of the bazillion tumbles a 3 year old takes in the run of a day. It should heal itself with some rest (any pointers on how to get the tazmanian angel to sit down?) and gradually clear up over a few days. We are to take her back if it doesn't. But even as of this morning it is waaay better than it was, so now Mommy can say YAY!

If anyone hasn't seen this yet, you should check it out. Anyone, specifically or especially mothers. Just funny. I swear this lady is going to end up on Oprah. Mark my word.

Best of both worlds

I wish you could have them. Kinda. Allow me to essplain.


Reflections on hedonism


I was thinking last night, how I was wearying of different aspects of my current life, (the inturrupted short sleep thing is starting to take its toll) and daydreaming about a time with a more open schedule, more freedom to say, go to a dance, a session, go out to eat or meet friends for coffee. I realized that at one time I had that, and when I was there I daydreamed about having a husband and a house and kids. I would think, "If only I could have that..." I didn't realize how much I loved being able to run over to the coffee shop or session whenever I felt like it.


So what do we conclude - the grass is always greener. I find we want whatever we don't currently have. In the summer, people complain about the heat and bugs, and pray for the soon coming of autumn to relieve them. During the winter, they bemoan the cold and the precipitation and extol the virtues of beautiful summer. I know not everybody is like this, but I do hear this a fair amount. And I hear it in my own head, regarding the phase of life issue.


My conclusion, after one night of introspection (so this certainly is the end-all truth of the matter, after all THAT impressive deep thought):


Every phase has is its pros and cons, and it is given to us in that way so we learn to appreciate what we currently have and find the good in it, to be thankful. If we had it all, we would be so spoiled we would be unable to enjoy it. Besides being more rotten people. Think Ms. Hilton par example.


THank you, thank you, you can call me your Buddha if you like. I am so enlightening after all.
You can't, however, rub my belly. It ain't like dat.

Debunking the myth

True or False:

You can eat a candy bar every day and stay in your current pant size.

False. You will not be able to stay in this size for very long if you maintain this routine.

Darn.

*sigh* oh well. I gave it a good effort anyway. And I did confirm the factuality of that statement, in case you were wondering. I have completed the trials.

Way to go, Ms. Clouseau

How do I say this cutely - I poured an entire large coffee from Tim Hortons on my creamy khaki capris clad lap about half way through the 90 min. drive to my ceilidh (fiddle concert) last night. Good job. I thought I could just send the dancer that is always there home to get me a pair of pants to borrow, but Chris thought it better to check local clothes merchants first. So I ended up having to pick up a pair of semi-strange denim highwaters for $25. Not something I would normally do, but I was in a pinch, as my entire underside was a tad bit coffeefied, I was headed on stage in like 20 minutes, and most other options in this tourist trap were upwards of $100, most of them slight little summer dresses or -Ack! - shorts! Heaven help us, my white legs in shorts... let's not go there. SOME of us are not blessed with Maori colouring. :)

Ms. Clouseau is of course a reference to the accident prone Jacques Clouseau in the Pink Panther detective movies from the 70's.

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I always thought those people were weird who could rhyme off incredibly detailed information about sports history/trivia, like who pitched for what team, what game, what year and their stats.

Then I realized I'm basically like that for fiddle stuff. I have scared people on more than one occasion. I'm wicked at playing "Name That Fiddler" within a certain stylistic spectrum. I trip people out when I tell them who is playing piano or fiddle on some home tape I have never heard, and what year it likely was. So I guess I'm a higher ranking geek than I knew.

Hey, can you get a cookie for that? I should look into it. I would love a cookie.

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Anna has started a delightful new game of quizzing/drilling me on Irish vocabulary! I love it, and think it is hilarious too. She will go on for Quite a goodly time asking, "What is fridge in Iwish? What is window in Iwish? What is couch in Iwish?" etc. indefinitely, til I get a sizeable unsolicited, but much appreciated review session of every noun she can think of. Isn't that funny or is it just me?

Oh foolish girl...

I stood still in the middle of my kitchen with an anticipitory excitement: Free time! Could it be??? I was in shellshocked disbelief for a moment. So - what will I do??? Daring not to waste a crumb, I quickly decided what the funnest thing at the moment would be.

I put on the kettle for a pot of hot starbucks coffee, a gift from a beautiful friend, -thank you! - and ran to my closet to fish out the afghan I had been working on before someone else came and decided to occupy my hands for 16 hours of the day. Not that I begrudge said person, but still.

I french-pressed my coffee, poured the fresh cream, got my crochet hook and strolled very pleased over to the table to sit with Anna, and sip my hot joe.

heard in the distance :

**waaa! waaa!**

She woke up.

Oh well.

There was a beautiful moment of grown up, relaxed quiet and indulgence. But then after some nursing, of COURSE, there is always nursing, she had such big smiles and coos for us, I knew this was much better than any old afghan. And I still got to sit and sip my coffee while she had her num nums. Yay for baby smiles! They are the best.

In other news, the ceilidhs are going great. They totally recharge my batteries. I guess I have come to a point in my playing or reached a level where it doesn't take as much to maintain the performance level. Certainly a couple years ago, I would never have been able to play these with as little practice as I have had. Whether it is God's pure grace, or I just got better, I'm doing way better than expected. Another yay!

Surgery recovery was remarkable. I'm great. Disgusting tasting chinese herbs are making nursing comfortable and enjoyable. Yay! Niamh is sleeping well at night. Daytime naps are another story... although God gave us swings to save us from the Valley of the Shadow of Desperation. I am doing better at speaking Irish to the girls, which makes me feel like much less of a slacker.

Hey - by any chance - are there any employers in the Dallas/Ft.Worth area reading this who would like to hire my dad? He needs a job.

Though we have been having tons of rain, about which locals are complaining profusely, I am SO enjoying the summer! All I need is green. Jenni is happy with green.

So as not to leave you without a picture, this is a proud Anna last week, displaying her work : writing her name for the first time. I didn't even know she was working on it. She just walked over and showed me. "Yook, Mommy, I wote my name!" And she had. What a girl.

Aahh... the life of a Holstein....

akin to my own current life.

Minus all the grass.

Today is Chris' birthday! Happy Birthday, Sweety! Not that he reads this. I made him one of our favourite dishes. Everyone who samples it decides it is one of their favourites as well. It is a family recipe called Roman Round pie. If anyone wants the recipe, I can email copies out. It really is excellent.

So we had yummy food, as is a-priori in my opinion for a birthday, and Chris spent the morning at a barn-raising : his own! He is working on building a barn. Big project, but he is the man for the job. Handy, as I mentioned before.

A funny thing I can mention is this : if anyone is flying WestJet in the next month, may I recommend you leaf through the seat-back magazine that will be in front of you? I'm in it!!! My bro and sis-in-law were recently on WestJet and as they were leafing , stopped short and said , Hey! That's Jen! And it was! How crazy is that? It is a picture of me at one of my ceilidhs with a brief telling of my from-Kansas-City story. Of course, not a Jenni-approved picture, not what I would call flattering, but so funny! Totally unexpected, I had no idea I was going to be in a magazine. Not that one anyway. Certainly no one got my permission!
So there ya go.

That's the stories for now.
Happy summer, everybody!

For the image deprived.

This was taken in the hospital by my sis-in-law.

Will get around to saying something later. If you want to know what is going on with me, you can revisit the post from June 17th.

Oh yes. More infections. I got a Sabbath in between and that's it. One the other. Crazy and annoying. Oh, and painful. But hey. I have a beautiful punkin' to admire while I peer through squinty aching eyes. And now she will smile, and what is cooler than that??

"Optimist finds the good in pessimism"

If you are dreading something, then it turns out to be not as bad as you feared, then it ends up seeming really good!

On a totally other note, and by the way, I'm not wanting to start people arguing with me on this one, I heard about some guy on the news who is being charged for 2 murders because he killed a pregnant woman. How is it that the courts see that as a double murder, but abortion is not a single one? Weird. Ya ya, people will argue with me that it's that whole, at what specific point does it become a person thing. Whatever. That just sounded really inconsistent to me. But that is man's justice for you- imperfect.

all manner of randomness

I'm stealing Mary's "random thoughts" format, cause it works for me. Thanks again, Mary. Do I need to start paying you royalties for your contributions to my blog? hehehe

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to whomever decides to buy the super scratchy and remarkably thin toilet paper in places like hospitals, office buildings, etc.: do you really save money using this stuff when one has to use a mile of it to do the job of 4 squares of charmin? Not that I'm suggesting everyone buy charmin, at all, but there are any number of available happy mediums.

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Overheard at our dinnertable one night:
"What's for supper?"
"Caterpillar toe. "
Sounds filling, eh? I thought so. Priceless moments that only a 3 year old can bring to your life.

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Only a newborn can spend 9 months in a bath and not come out pruney.

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No wild ride of excitement compares to a 3-5am silent session of sitting and staring with a newborn. Let me tell ya. Wowy. There is no singing or game or toy that might entertain them or even incite their notice in any way. So entertaining consists of switching positions, largely. Sit up, lean back, lay down, sit up, lean forward, over the shoulder, over the arm, over the other shoulder, in a chair, "stand" up, lay on the floor ... mmm hmm. Party hardy, Marty. Although I have found a walkman really helps, and sometimes the baby will let you play air-piano with them, and boy that passes the time.

--------------------------------

Yes, laugh if you must, I still use a walkman. We have an IPOD, but I haven't really figured it out. He mainly uses it. And all my old home-tapes of fiddling are on cassette, so yes, I am still in cassette/walkman land. I had a young person ask me what a walkman was. Wow I felt old. It's not an 8-track for pete's sake! Oh, and apparently computers don't even come with floppy drives anymore. Where was I? (Monastery.... in my kitchen... a place that knows no time, apparently)

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It is far better just to never get sick in the first place, as pretty well any treatment I can think of for various illnesses and disesase is really not fun or even remotely pleasant. Let's note all these crappy 'remedies':
*chemo *strict diets *vomitously disgusting medicines *surgeries *medicines/treatments with side effects that compete with the illness itself for negative life impact (like flu symptoms)
Ya. Way better just to stay healthy. For those who can, who have ears to hear and might have the RARE rare wisdom to actually learn from someone else's mistakes and not insist on the hard way, (because, mind you, it is not called the hard way because it is easy) I say to you, STAY HEALTHY. Look after yourself. Eat well - Lots of fresh produce, whole foods. Excercise. Don't sweat the small stuff. Please? It really is for your own good. Really it is.

----------------------------

Ten Cheers for breastfeeding and burning 500 calories a day while remaining almost completely sedentary! WEEHOO! I am already wearing my normal size 4/6 jeans, and my Niamh will only be a month in 4 more days. I find this truly remarkable, if not miraculous. If you could have seen the floppy flap of post-partum belly, you wouldn't believe it either. We are fearfully and wonderfully made!

back back back...

SWINGS the pendulum... over to Happy!

The aforementioned infection got its tush kicked by:
* a super hot shower
* a bunch of massage
* hours of white-knuckled nursing
* 6 cloves of raw fresh garlic, crushed over a potato salad (kisses anybody??? hehehe)
* God granting to Niamh a 5 hour sleep stretch for me to better rest

Oh ya baby. No antibiotics necessary!

2 weeks from yesterday is my first ceilidh. Yipes! Somebody needs to practice! Her name is Jenni. Maybe I should get off blogger and go do that. hmmm... but first... more elipses.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder...
It has been a few weeks since I was at church. Man oh man am I ever jonesin'. Big corporate worship depravation issues. I started crying last night just putting on a cd and praying a little bit. I think that's the biggest thing I feel lack of here. Otherwise I am really settling in and feel more at home.

My basil plant is flowering. Anybody know if I should nip those, not let it, or if it is fine to let it go?

I failed to mention before, when I was in the hospital, and Nanny was here and Anna was "helping" her get the nursery ready, Anna went and got her blanky, the blanky, and put it in the crib for Niamh to have. And that was it, she hasn't asked for it again, she decided she wanted the baby to have it. Is that not soo precious??? Wow. Nanny asked her, "Are you sure, Anna?" and she replied glibly, "Yep."

If only I was so ready to hand over things that were precious to me with simple unattached generosity.

Later Taters.

and for the sake of balance...

a bunch of hopeless complaining to counter the idyllic picture painted in the previous post.

I don't understand. I had an infection of candida albicans in my milk ducts when I was nursing Anna. I had it for 18 months while I nursed her. For those who don't know, it is painful. Rather painful. And it is a very pertinacious infection. Every treatment western medicine offered me gave me no solution. I tried them all, one a few different times. Well well well, surprise surprise, Mr. Candida never actually LEFT me, I just weaned her and didn't notice its presence any longer as there was nothing to exacerbate it. So starting to nurse Niamh, I was able to pick up right where I left off. Lovely.

BUT there was some hope. The Chinese doctor who was giving me acupuncture has an herbal remedy for it, she claims. I am a week into the 4 week treatment and seeing good results, feeling improvement, all excited, that there may finally be an end to this terrible stuff in sight. Oh but wait, another thing that also seems familiar though unwelcome... redness, burning... hmm.. is it a blocked duct or mastitis? Let's wait and see if flu symptoms appear. Hello! I get up today and am totally achey all over, spinny head and chills, very unhappy milk ducts, and a lot of pain. Pain that just about brings tears to my eyes whenever she begins to nurse. The only treatment for mastitis is antibiotics, which will spiral all the candida issue totally out of control once again. Yip-dee-flippin dee. And I went through all this with Anna once. How is it I get every problem in the book every time. Why. I was so dreadfully ill with the mastitis last time, it was all I could do to walk.

Argh. Not again.

And my hand is a fair bit worse now too, as should be expected getting more tired and fighting multiple infections. It is still discouraging though.

*sigh* that's it. I'm just so so annoyed. How wonderful to have an eventless run of nursing. It can be such a wonderful thing. For about 2 days where the herbs were helping, I was able to glimpse that. I am seeing the dark side now again, for sure, unfortunately.

And I just found out today that another friend of mine in Cape Breton, an old fella with whom I danced a set EVERY time I went to West Mabou, died this week. I can't believe it. He was so spry and lively. Weird.
Weird how the world will be different now without him. We'll miss you Neilly Angus D. West Mabou won't be the same.

for those who never have enough pictures...

Especially of my beautiful babies...

Here is Niamh Eileen (letting you see it written as much as possible :) at 7 days old.

the proud sister

I'm finding this all so awesome, I am nearly speechless. But of course, Jenni's speechless is really more like everybody else's normal speechful.

*ahem*

So many beautiful moments the last week, I can't believe. Firstly, for Niamh, for the last 3 nights she has been sleeping at 3-4 hr intervals, only waking for a one-side feeding and then straight back to sleep for another stretch! Hello? No 3-7am stare-&-rock-fests. Wonderful.

So I am not wasted... yet. I know my time will come, and mom-in-law is still helping to take Anna when Niamh has a good afternoon nap so I can have one too. This is priceless assistance!

The next story should be prefaced with:

Did I mention that one day a couple weeks ago, Chris built a deck on the front of our house? In a day? Including staining? Not from a kit? Ya. He is incredible.

One afternoon a couple days ago while Niamh napped, Anna and I sat out on our new deck, enjoying it for the first time in a new bistro table and chair set, on one of the first sunny days. I made us a couscous salad with chopped veggies & beans, and a chopped fruit plate with cherries, and we sat there and shared this lovely lunch like 2 ladies, 2 friends. It was so special, and Anna said, "Isn't it a beautiful summer day?" and then, "Mm mm, what a yummy yunch you made, Mommy!" She can be so unbelievably sweet sometimes.

And it was beautiful. Every summer I go through this same routine of saying, "Ooooh yaaa... THIS is why I thought it was wonderful here." During the winter I often find myself at some cranky phase cursing rose-coloured glasses and saying, "sooo... why did I think this was so great?"

Leaves do a lot for me. After our long winter and mucky muddy "spring" (woeful in comparison to Kansas City's spring), the lush summer leaves, bright blue skies spotted with fluffy whitey clouds, and just delicious green-ness everywhere cheer me like nobody's business. I so love it. And yes, Anna, it IS beautiful here.

A word to potential visitors: it's ALL about June-August, or maybe September, some years.

if you have the time...

and I believe it would be beneficial for you to TAKE the time, but I'm not guilt-tripping...

this article sends shivers and is really informative. It is ganked from another blog.
Thank you, Mary, for making me a more informed citizen of the earth.

http://www.bestlifeonline.com/cms/publish/travel-leisure/Our_oceans_are_turning_into_plastic_are_we.shtml

and just like that....

*ding*

This...


became...

this.

Pretty cool, huh?

Welcome to Niamh Eileen! For those who don't read Irish out there - I'm assuming there may be a couple (ha) - Niamh is pronounced neev. Or as one name book said, "heaven spelled backwards."

ok, not really, but it sounds cute to say. The non-English-phoenetic spelling comes from Irish Gaelic, if anybody didn't yet know that was my thing. It is an Irish name so we went for the authentic/heritage type thing over the accessible-to-more-people thing.

She was 9lbs. 3 oz.

21 1/2 in. long

born May 29, at 9:39am

she is a total dear, a good sleeper so far (thank You, God! let it continue!!) We are all happy at home. So far Anna loves her too, thinking she is "sooo sweet!!!" but enjoys making a scene whenever I change her bum, as if it had any smell at all. She flees the scene covering her face in feigned terror. What a little actress.

Re: the photos, the nurse took the first one in my hospital room the morning of the c-section. You can see the morning hour on the wallclock. 2 1/2 hrs later, the 2nd pic was taken.

The section was routine and eventless, (thanks again to God!!) but of course no surgery is ever fun. I am now living off my tylenol, bet it gets me through. I'm quite sore but ok, and have good help between Chris and is mum who is next door. Oh, and of course Anna, who is also very helpful.

She is currently nursing and it is 5am and I am one-finger-pecking this whole post, so I'll wrap up for now, but I was anxious to share my news. : )

Beautifully, in closing, I find my house feels more like a home, and we feel more like a family, instead of a couple with a kid. Lovely.

2 funny Anna quotes today

Our neighbour is doing some construction, and there is an assortment of large golden-coloured construction equipment down there doing their business. She knows the Irish word for excavator quite well, and thinks it is fun to say apparently. The other day while playing alone in her room I heard her repeating over and over, "tochaltoir... tochaltoir... tochaltoir... tochaltoir.."

This afternoon Anna looked out the window and said,
"Hey, yook Mommy! See dat Innovator??? It's digging!!!"

To which I replied, "You mean EXcavator?? "

"YA, ya... EXcavator..."

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Then I was telling her that she would be a big sister next week, that she would have either a brother or sister, but that there would be a new baby anyway. TO which she replied,
"Ooh! Will it be a pink one??? I want a pink one."

3 days over news

I was informed yesterday that the medical community is considering it basically impossible for me to deliver the baby, so I am now scheduled for a c-section on Tuesday. That's when they could pencil me in. It's like trying to get a haircut appointment. Weird.

Apparently my pelvis just doesn't cut it. And the "good birthing hips" of which I boasted possessing all through high school don't count for anything either. Oh well.

So here I am. Hoping now to NOT go into labor and make it until Tuesday eventless.

Thanks for prayers and concern. I will let you know as soon as I can what they find next week... hehehe

the beached whale and other foibles

Some humour from this interesting time of life.

I'm more like a turtle on it's back, really. But this condition goes back a ways. In high school one time, a friend and I compared the relative difference in our body shapes. We both laid on the floor on our backs, and I could easily raise and lower my legs but had difficulty sitting my torso straight up, while her torso would almost automatically raise when she tried to lift her legs. Interesting.
I'm still like that, it's just worse. I can get out of bed on my own, but Chris' assistance is much appreciated. I'm sure the upswing heave-ho action of my legs trying to create some counterforce and get that ol' torso vertical must be humourous to watch. But I have no audience generally. Lucky for me.

Then I would like to compose a wee letter of thanks to whomever is responsible (or not responsible, as the case may be) for maintaining things in the women's washroom at my church.

The locks don't work, on any of the doors, as far as I know. Now, combine the following conditions and it just isn't pretty.
1) I am quite short. Thus, so are my legs.
2) The stall doors to not lock.
3) Whatever unbalanced angle the doors are hanging at, causes them to naturally swing open inwards.

So this leaves me, who frequents washrooms with some, well, frequency these days, stretching my little leg, pointing my little toes as far as they will go (while trying to remain in appropriate proximity to the loo itself) to hold the door at least mostly closed while I occupy the space. What can I say, but that it is nearly impossible, and at the very least, far from comfortable. But hey.

Then there were two sitcom-ready moments of maternity shame that I will here bare in my seeming disregard for my own self-image or dignity.

The first was a month-ish ago, after church. I was driving home alone, and had stopped to pick up a couple groceries. Well, there was a box of glazed donuts on the clearance rack of the bakery, which I snatched right up, for Chris, of course. Well, the salivation began shortly thereafter as "visions of sugar plums (and donuts) danced in my head, " while I was walking around the other aisles of the store.

What a horrid display I made of myself, loading the bags of groceries into the trunk, and tearing savagely into the box of donuts, and inhaling one while standing in the parking lot just outside the open trunk of my car. Had I not eaten in a week? I mean really.

I licked my fingers as clean as I could as I delivered the cart to the little cart corrall and walked back to my car pretending that there was no one sitting in their cars waiting for anyone inside to return and watching my little show. Lovely. Not to mention, impressive.

Then there was the other day... *sigh* this was truly shameful as well. I was like an alcoholic. But with sugar. I made these cookie/bark/brittle things that are truly sinful and delicious, very rich and pure cryptonite for me. I hid from Anna, because of course, that much sugar is no good for her!!! And I ate and I ate and I ate as gluttonously as I can actually EVER recall eating, literally, until I made myself sick. I don't know what came over me. I didn't lose anyting, but boy, was my stomach ever upset. Yowzers. And I felt drained and heavy and nauseous the whole rest of the day. Absolutely pitiful.

The bright side is that I have had basically NO desire for sugar since then. At all. I'll just eat some plain cauliflower, ok? Thanks. And water. LOTS of water. Please.