"Mouth is alive with juices like wine and I'm hungry like the wolf" ~ Duran Duran
I'm hungry. Like all of the time. I had sort of forgotten that this is what happens when you're shooting milk into the mouth of a babe with a healthy appetite every couple of hours. I mean, I remember wanting to eat a lot when I nursed Q and how nice it was to be able to eat more than usual and have the baby suck the calories right out of you. Sure, I'll admit it. I'm one of those lucky bitches who loses the majority of her baby weight from breastfeeding. I'm trying to enjoy the moment. Because someday I will have to stop breastfeeding, and then the joke will be on me. It should coincide nicely with the complete loss of youthful metabolism. Then I will have to cease and desist with the muffins and the bread and the cheese and the chocolate and the pasta and the pastries and the grilled cheese chocolate sandwiches. Kidding about that last. Sort of.
And now that I'm back at work I'm hungrier than ever. At home on maternity leave I would graze throughout the day, eating breakfast and lunch with Q, finishing his leftovers, picking at his snacks, having my own meal and snack when he napped, etc. (I'm sort of making myself sick here. Yet I am still hungry somehow.) At work, I pump more milk than I would normally feed Zoe. Just in case, you know? And of course I'm rushing to get out of the house in the morning and rarely give myself time to pack a healthy lunch with smart snacks. I know, I know. Pack one the night before. But Whole Foods is right across the street and it calls to me even when I've packed a lunch. Need. More. Food.
I've come to the conclusion that I'm essentially a dairy cow. I need to graze on "grass" all day long to be able to produce enough milk and to keep on meandering through the field. The field being my brain. Even when I wasn't BF'ing, I'd turn into a cold, hard witch of a woman if I went without food for too long. Now I get dizzy and lose all coherent mental functioning if I don't eat. The other morning when I didn't have much breakfast, I was telling Zoe that we were going to the place where they take your clothes and make them nice again because I couldn't remember the words "dry cleaner." And yes, I felt the need to tell my 4 month old about this errand.
It's also the time of year when every one is starting a cleanse or going on a diet. Kicking off 2012 with a healthy start and all of that. You know what it reminds me of? Food. A small part of me feels guilty for not joining the masses and committing to healthier living. But hey, I'm burning calories at an alarming rate here. Feed me, Seymour!
I just shoveled one of those frozen Trader Joe's cheese and spinach pastas in my mouth while typing this and I'm still famished. What's for lunch?