I’m swear on my life I have Reverse Anorexia.
I feel absolutely fabulous. I feel toned, sexy, energetic, great! And then…I step on the scale and I’m about 30 pounds overweight, 30 pounds heavier than before I had Henry, 30 damn pounds of love and love handles and juicy curves.
I was talking to my girlfriend, Courtney today. She is living the great Alaskan adventure up in Juneau. She said she has the same problem, and that we just need to live back in Victorian times when super curvy bodies like ours were all the rage.
I said, actually, I need to live back in prehistoric France when muffin top bellies and huge pendulum breasts were the epitome of beauty.
Think Venus De Willendorf.
It seems my greatest stress reliever is baking chocolate chip cookies, no small part of which is eating the dough. The perfect piece of dough is one that has been placed on a hot cookie sheet, the chocolate is melted inside the little ball of dough, heaven awaits. Yes!! A tiny river of chocolate!! I love everything about baking–the smell evokes everything warm and delicious, I love the warmth of the stove, I love, of course, the dough! It’s an unmatchable sensory experience, AND I can do it with the kids. They help me measure the ingredients(most of which end up on the floor), we watch the cookies melt in the oven, and of course, warm cookies and milk?? Can anyone top that? I’ve become such a connoisseur of fresh cookies that if they’re more than three hours old, I can taste it and won’t bother eating them.
Suffice to say, I LOVE baking cookies.
Now, here’s the rub. Henry has had trouble sleeping since day one. I’ve been baking cookies and eating the dough since day one. The past week, I was unable to bake as I was too busy pureeing vegetables for my new recipes in the Seinfeld cookbook. And coincidentally, Henry slept like a baby all week. When, on Sunday, I finally got to bake, he he woke up again and we had a loong night. Coincidence?? I hope so! I can’t imagine time without my dough! My cookie baking!! It’s a bit depressing actually! I’m trying some time without baking and then I’ll give it another go and see how he sleeps. But maybe, just maybe, this love of cookies has something to do with my Pillbury Dough Girl body and if I quit baking I can get back to my former self? Who knows?
And really who cares?
While I’m waiting to see if baking is part of my future, I’ve replaced the stress reliever part of it with knitting tiny sheep. It’s a bit bizarre, I know, but I’ve started knitting these little sheep nearly every night. It’s SO gratifying. Starting with a gorgeous ball of yarn, delicious colors, divine textures, and a few turns of my bamboo needles and voila! A sheep!! I think I’m going through a shepherd phase. I feel a compulsive need to be the uber-caring mama–shepherdess, baker, dance instructor, singer, storyteller, warm, nurturing, protecting my little sheep, herding them here and there, all with love. Annabelle loves the lullaby “Tender Shepherd” from Peter Pan. She sings it so beautifully, right on key. And here I sit, making yet another soft fuzzy sheep.
And a fuzzy sheep never kept anyone awake (that I know about)or made anyone into a giant marshmallow mama, so in the end, it’s best for everyone.
Sigh. Farewell chocolate chip cooke days. Farewell.
