Over the last few weeks, I've become increasingly interested in learning about nutrition.
For as long as I remember, Ive learned that fat is bad for you. Full stop. And the weight loss groups and fads I've followed over the years have caused me to develop habits that I'd never really questioned before, filling my plate with tons of "free" pasta and mountains of rice and potatoes, filling up to the brink of no return, but it's ok because it's low fat... Right?
Turns out, no. No it's probably not.
I've read a few books about nutrition, learnt a bit about eating for health rather than weight loss and discovered that my body has really missed fat. My spots are vanishing thanks to good old extra virgin olive oil which is well and truly back on the menu and I'm not craving salty carbs quite as much because I'm enjoying (God forbid) egg yolks and full fat butter on my wholemeal toast.
After not eating alpen in years (it's full of high fat nuts, don't you know?) Im eating it every morning for breakfast. It's as delicious as I remember. It good for me too according to the latest books I've read.
Who knows, maybe eventually someone will decide that good fats are bad fats all over again and maybe I'll be back to eating mountains of pasta, but for now, it's working because I feel better.
One thing I'm struggling with is my little one... How do I get her to eat less of the beige stuff? How do I get her onboard with my latest colourful health kick-fad? Infact, how do I get anyone on board in my house for that matter?!
They love beige food in my house, good old plain, colourless, flavourless, stodgy beige food.
So do I, I love it for convenience, but not so much for the flavour.
Then there's the grand-parents who supply endless snacks and meals of colourless, empty beigeness with a side order of bread. Of course, they mean well, but how do I get anyone on board with my latest parenting fad without looking like some raging convenient-food-stealing-control-freak-witch? How do I make my toddler eat more healthily without helicoptering my way through her life snatching stodge from her hands, whilst other family members console her with ladels of ice cream and chips? How do I get her to like vegetables when I'm the only meanie giving her the chance to?
When she's older, I hope she'll appreciate my efforts; I hope she'll know that I cared for her inside and out, even if I did come across as a raging control freak. I hope I can be a good, healthy role model to her (even if I am a secret chocolate eater when she's sleeping, although apparently it's actually good for you! That's how I know this latest health fad is definitely for me!)
One day, I'll be able to explain to her that I just want her to live longer, that I want to keep her insides safe as well as her outsides, that I want her to love and like her body, that I want her to feel good and healthy. Perhaps it's only when you lose someone to ill health that you realise the true importance of health, after all, if you don't have a body to live in, where else will you live?
But for now, I know she'll see me as the good-stuff killing police.
The Chicken Dipper Thief.