Category Archives: Food Weirdness
Odd Confession Day
These are some of the weird, random things I think about or do. Surely I’m not the only one… On the other hand, perhaps I am.
* I had a bizarre thought last night: This is probably the last penis I’ll ever touch. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
* I sneak food, even when I’m alone. I’ll buy potato chips at the supermarket, open them in the car on the way home, and then hide them in the car until I can sneak them into the house without OW seeing them. Then I hide them in the back of the pantry.
* Sometimes when one of the twins is crying and crying nothing seems to help, I softly sing him a lullaby in which the only words are “shut up”.
* I pretend my hair color is natural even though people can obviously see my roots peeking out.
* I’m trying to psychically will my twins’ eyes to be blue instead of brown, so they’ll have something from me.
* I made goulash yesterday from pork that was several days past its sell-by date. We’re having it for dinner tonight but I didn’t tell OW about the age of the pork. I’m seriously hoping it won’t make us sick and I feel very sneaky.
* I was rinsing a poopy diaper in the toilet (we use cloth) while baby was on the changing table (I know, I know but he can’t move around yet). He was starting to fuss so I rushed to finish and get the diaper in the pail. Then the other baby started to fuss and I got distracted. I finished with baby number one and went on to baby number two. A while later, while they were napping, I was snacking on some pistachios. I kept smelling something weird and my fingers tasted funny when I licked the salt off. I realized with horror that in my distraction earlier I had failed to wash my hands after rinsing the diaper. Ugh to Nth power.
Confess something to me.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
I have a complicated relationship with food. Don’t we all? I think mine is a bit different than most but maybe that’s because very few of us are truly honest, even with ourselves, about details that shame us.
I’m letting my shame come out.
On a fairly anonymous blog.
I don’t have the courage to be up front about this stuff in my real life, but this is bare wood, right?
I’m of a totally normal weight. In fact, before I got pregnant with the twins (Before Twins – BT) I was pretty bombshell-esque if I do say so myself. I wore tucked-in blouses with snug-fitting pencil skirts and high heels to work every day. I had big boobs, a tiny waist and respectably curvy hips.
I’m only 10 pounds above what I was BT, but it’s amazing how much that 10 affects my clothing choices and my self image. I have TT (twin tummy) and my boobs went from big and luscious to gigantic and obscene. I’ve developed saddle bags. I guess I had them to some extent before but they were minimal and didn’t really bother me.
Even BT though, I was weird and sneaky and very secretive about food. I would hide food even when I lived alone. Why? I don’t know. I was afraid someone would come over and see what I really ate I guess. I still hide food. I hide it from OW. When the twins get old enough to notice that I eat food and to want some, I’ll be hiding food from them too. I’ll snatch bites of things from behind cupboard doors or around the corner from the playroom. I know this about myself because that’s exactly what I did with FS (the first set).
This week I made a loaf of banana bread as a birthday gift for an uncle-in-law I’ve met maybe two or three times. I’d let some bananas get really ripe, I looked up fabulous recipes using weights instead of measurements and I studied the optimal mixing methods, all so I could make the perfect loaf for this uncle-in-law-whom-I’d-met-maybe-two-or-three-times.
when I started making it though, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of greed and regret that I was going to have to give it away. I thought about just not giving it to him and wishing him a happy birthday with nothing in hand. I thought about making mini-muffins so I could eat some and not have anyone notice it wasn’t a full recipe’s worth.
I worked hard to control myself and continued on. I lost that control some at the end, just before pouring the batter into the loaf pan. I started eating the batter. Just a bit that splashed onto my hand at first. Then a dollop from the scraper, then a spoonful, then another.
How gross is that?
I’d be absolutely mortified if OW or his mother or my mother or anyone I know knew about this.
And that’s just the beginning, Friends. My food weirdness will take care of loads of blog posts.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!