Whole30: Day 1

Welp…It was a lot harder than I anticipated.  And not for the “OH MY GOSH THERE IS A JAR OF NUTELLA IN THERE” reasons.

More like the, I’m fighting a nasty cold and had such a sore throat ALL day reason.  My brother had a cold can of ginger ale and all I could think of was the cold syrupy drink and how soothing it is on the way down.

Or just a darn cough drop. 

Bear and Monkey had a rough night.  I think Hubs and I both only got about 2 hours of broken sleep.  I needed caffeine so badly, but I HATE HATE HATE the taste of coffee.

I usually drink it mixed 50/50 with flavored coffee creamer.  So the thought of drinking it black or with just coconut milk was enough to turn my stomach.  I did end up having a cup of hot tea around 3PM to help soothe my throat.  It helped until  I sneezed.  My throat is on fire.

Hopefully, tonight I’ll get more sleep and start beating this cold.

Onto the rest of the program.

I have had no headaches or cravings for sugar, but I don’t usually everyday. For me that random and intense.  I can’t just have a teensy bit of Nutella every day and be okay, for me it’s 1 or 2 times a month I want to eat half the jar.

Today’s food is as follows:
Breakfast:  Frittata with Mushrooms, Onion, Red Bell Pepper, Ground Turkey, Tarragon and Parsley, 2/3 of Bear’s Banana
Snack:  Almonds on the way out the door to Bear’s sign language class
Lunch:  Chili (I made this recipe up, but I have a few improvements before I post it)
Snack:  Apple
Dinner:  Chicken Limone (chicken, arugula, mushrooms, brussel sprouts and lemon dressing)
Dessert:  Strawberries

At the end of the day I feel less bloated.  Hubs even noticed it compared to how I looked last night.  I thought eating all this fiber would give me a stomach ache but I haven’t felt one at all.  For now I’m trying to end the day with something sweet to kind of give me that dessert feel but I may try eliminating it in a few days. 

Tomorrow I’m excited to make smoothies and try some other produce I bought.

Whole30: Chicken Limone

This came out even better than I imagined.  However, word of warning…I LOVE lemon.

Basically, this is chicken, sautéed mushrooms and Brussel sprouts served over arugula, covered in a lemon vinaigrette.
INGREDIENTS
Precooked chicken breast
3-4 oz. white mushrooms
1/2 cup olive oil
1 lemon
Arugula
Salt
Fresh or frozen brussel sprouts


First I sliced up 1/2 of a 6.5 oz. pack of white mushrooms.
I added them to a hot fry pan with 2 Tbsp. Olive Oil.

While mushrooms are sautéing, prep your brussel sprouts.  I used fresh ones and washed them and then chopped off the ends.  (You can also use frozen ones, or the ones that come in steamer bags for more convenience.)

Place in steamer basket in 3/4” of water in a sauce pot.  Cover and steam for about 15 minutes.

Make sure to keep stirring the mushrooms occasionally to make sure they cook evenly.
Using a zester, zest the lemon.  I’m not a great zester so I showed a finished picture of how much I took off.  Make sure only to take the yellow part of skin and not the white bitter rind.

At this point, my mushrooms were finished.  I took them off the burner and let them sit.

I juiced and strained the whole lemon.

Combine zest, lemon juice, a pinch of salt and 1/2 cup of olive oil in mixing bowl and whisk well.  It will make this creamy yellow dressing.

I used a precooked chicken breast, I sliced it long ways to make it thin because I baked it in the toaster oven.

Put a nice handful of fresh arugula on a plate.

Top with chicken strips, sautéed mushrooms and spread brussel sprouts around.  Drizzle with lemon dressing.


RESULTS:
Fantastic.  Even if after the 30 days we went back to our old eating habits, I would still make this.  The lemon dressing is fantastic. 

Other Options:
If you wanted to add more variety of color you could add tomatoes to this.  I was planning on adding grape tomatoes but didn’t have any.
If you’re unsure of brussel sprouts either try a different veggie or be experimental.  Use half the brussel sprouts and precook them.  Allow them to cool.  Cut them into quarters, and spread the leaves off the stems. This will pull all the leaves apart of the brussel sprouts and you can mix it in with the arugula.  Arugula has such a strong taste that you would never notice a few cabbage leaves in there. 

Whole30 to a whole new me!

Have you heard of Whole30?  I hadn’t. 

It’s basically a 30 day pledge to eat clean.  What’s clean you ask? 

No sugar, no beans, no imitation sugar, no grains and no dairy.

That’s a lot to lose, but I’m trying to focus on what I’ll gain.

I’m hoping to gain a lot from this program:
A better relationship with food
A new clothing size
A healthier appearance
More self esteem
More energy
More years on my life

Even though I’ve been gluten-free my postpartum weight loss has stopped.  I’m 15 lbs under my prepregnancy weight, which is fine and dandy except I’m still 35 lbs over my prepregnancy weight with Bear.  (Maybe if I had the stomachs of my boys and threw up half of everything I eat, that could change, or not.)

I’m still addicted to gluten-free junk food (Can we say NUTELLA?)

Isn’t the first step to fighting an addiction, to acknowledge it?  Well, here I am.  I’m going to just come out and say it.  I love all things junk, especially gluten-free ones. 

Ice cream, Cool Ranch Doritos, Nutella, Peanut Butter, Nutella, Nutella on Ice Cream….and so on.

I’m a little nervous about the first week of clean eating (although usually the first week of any life improvement is easy, it’s the sustaining that I struggle with).  So I way overspent on groceries, part in fear, and part in motivation to do this the right way.

I spent $160 on groceries, for one week of clean eating.  But, I think I can make it stretch further.  We got 2 huge Butternut Squash, a large Spaghetti Squash, 5 large yams, 2 quarts of strawberries, a pint of blackberries, 8 avocados, 2 packs of arugula, spinach, red peppers, Gala apples, bananas, almonds, walnuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, and a bunch of frozen fruits and veggies from Trader Joe’s and the farmer’s market. 

And a bunch of other stuff, including my favorite….BRUSSEL SPROUTS.

I know, how can someone addicted to Nutella also love Brussel Sprouts.  But I truly love those little cabbages, always have.  Even as a kid in elementary school, but I was too afraid to voice my loner opinion.

I’m hoping to journal my 30 day journey (and include some pictures and recipes) for a realistic look at whether this diet change is the right one.

And don’t worry, Hubs is doing it right along side me.   I also plan (for personal possession to take pictures of us to compare before and after to see if there really is a difference).

Bear will not be joining unless I make this a permanent change.  He struggles so much with the oral motor skills of eating and is so skinny that I can’t jeopardize his calorie intake.

TOMORROW IS DAY ONE!!!

Sometimes you can’t pick up where you left off.

Recently Hubs, Bear, Monkey and I moved back to my hometown.  After receiving Monkey’s diagnosis we just knew we needed more daily support.

 

It was the right move for us, but I do miss our home in the Midwest.  I miss our friends and the location.  But we’re back home and we have our high school and college friends back and family just on the other side of the door.

 

Tonight we decided to have an inaugural dinner with friends to celebrate our homecoming (and my belated birthday).  I was excited.  There was an energy in our kitchen as I prepared a home-cooked meal.  There was a constant buzz in the air as we set up the table and chairs, made some orange iced tea, and readied ourselves. 

 

Dinner was great, food was tasty and conversation was lusciously flowing.  And then dinner and dessert were over and another group of friends joined us.  Soon we traded the table and chairs for comfy couches and recliners.  We mixed up and sat next to people we hadn’t seen in months.  I kept checking on Bear and Monkey (who were graciously being babysat by Grandma and Granddad next door).  I sat in this circle of friends and tried to take it in.  I tried to feel the camaraderie that I once had with all of them.  Sure, I laughed at the funny tales we had of old teachers, or the silly stunts that we all once took part in. 

 

And then one friend said it.  The R word.  Retarded.  Then he said it a second time and I told him that he better lose that word in this house.  Then another friend said it.

 

My heart literally shattered.  I looked at their faces differently than I once had.  Hubs and I had been gone for 5 years.  5 years is a lifetime when you’ve been married, bought and sold 2 houses and had 2 children with special needs before your friends were even married (some still aren’t).

 

The R word is not tolerated in this house.  My children have intellectual disabilities.  They are legitimately, medically retarded.  I will not let them live their daily lives pushing themselves as hard as they can to accomplish all they can just to have someone demean it.  Using the word retarded to describe an action or someone else is making my children second class citizens.  You are instantly writing them into the category of “less than good”.  It makes them into invaluable members of society. 

 

In the past 2 years my life has taken a drastically different turn.  I became much more devoted to my faith and I gave birth to my first son.  My first son, who happens to be intellectually and physically disabled.  It forced me to focus on love and what my son is truly about. I can scream to the world about his milestones and I can cry into his shoulder because he pulled up to stand.  I have a bond with him that lets me know when he’s hungry, thirsty or just needs snuggles because he has no ability to communicate with us.  It’s forced me to slow down and try to stop time.  We spent so much time in and out of hospitals that first year of Bear’s life that all time spent at home was sipped.  I didn’t dare try to take to big of a drink for fear that it would make time go by too quickly. 

 

And then Monkey joined us.  With the same challenges as Bear.  Thankfully, with Bear’s diagnosis in hand it saved us from a lot of hospital time with Monkey and he doesn’t have the same feeding challenges as Bear did.  However, I still relish in everything about it.  I trace every fat roll with my fingers and try to memorize them.  I try to burn into my brain how he fits in my arm.  I close my eyes and envision his big juicy cheeks jiggling in the carseat when he falls asleep.   I try to forget how stiff his arms are, or how fisted his hands are or that he’s not yet rolling over or grabbing toys.  I’m mentally recording his baby giggles and I wish I could bottle that sensation I get when his whole face lights up with his big baby grin.

 

I see others and I don’t see their shortcomings.  I don’t care if the grocery store clerk is slow to check my items out.  I don’t care if the waitress gets my order wrong.  Maybe that’s the fast the clerk can go, or maybe it’s the first job s/he held.  Maybe they have their own physical or mental challenges.  Maybe the waitress had a bad day.  Maybe her baby is home sick, or in daycare, or in the NICU and she’s just managing to keep it together.  I’ve been there.  I am there.  Bear works so hard on a daily basis just to do what comes so naturally to others.  I know he will never be as fast, as smart, or as physically skilled as a typical child.  While it’s AMAZING to me that he’s pulling up to stand, most people just ask when he’s going to walk.  They don’t see what he has accomplished, only what he is lacking.  But who he is, is the best Bear he can be.  And that is enough for me.

 

And this house, this house is retard free.

Opening Up About My Journey

I have anxiety.  I don’t know if it’s postpartum anxiety, my-children-have-special-needs anxiety, or regular old anxiety.

 

But I do know it became a problem.

 

Since Monkey was born my anxiety has been heightened.  Like any new Mom I was super careful holding my baby so his head didn’t flop, gently loving on him and being vigilant that Bear didn’t accidentally trample him.  However, something changed.  It’s been slowly getting worse.  I’ve been having heightened fear of death and thinking of it more.  I also thought, maybe it’s just because now I’ve got two kids to worry about once I’m gone.

 

After Monkey’s diagnosis Hubs took a leave of absence from work (for 4 days) and we headed to visit family.  We just needed some emotional support and a short escape.  I was driving on the return trip and we passed through a “Falling Rock Zone”.  All of a sudden all I could think of was those stories you hear about people killed by falling rocks.  I imagined what that must be like, to be driving along and the next thing, you’re dead.  You can’t even see the rocks coming.  I drove with a death grip on the steering wheel through that falling rock zone.  For the rest of the drive I was couldn’t get my mind to stray from vehicular accidents.  I had images of tires blowing out, people coming across the median, rain, ice, etc.  I was short-tempered for the entire drive because it was taking everything in my body to remain calm and not freak out about the dangers outside of us.

 

When we got home my anxiety seemed a little better and I did fine for about 5 days.  Then Hubs was at work and Bear was having a fussy day.  It was nothing extreme and I was doing okay.  Then Monkey woke up.  He screamed for 5 hours.  I couldn’t do anything to make him stop, I tried shushing, swaddling, feeding, changing, bathing, and more.  You name it, I tried it.  Finally, after about 5 hours I hit my limit.  I was done and so stressed out I actually had a panic attack. I had sat on the couch to try to give him a bottle and I realized I was kind of out breath.  This quickly escalated to feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest and that I couldn’t breathe. Thankfully, I recognized it as a panic attack and breathed through it.  In for 2, out for 2, in for 4 out for 4, in for 6 out for 6, in for 8 out for 8 and so on.  It took me about 5-10 minutes to get the panic attack under control but that didn’t change how I felt.

 

I started thinking back and realized that in the past couple of weeks I had barely slept.  No matter how tired I was my mind would be racing.  It would take me at least an hour to fall asleep and I would wake up frequently  with nightmares or just unable to stay asleep. I even contemplated taking Benadryl but it leaves me  zombie-like the next day.  I constantly felt like I had drank 5 cups of coffee, I was jittery and short.  My memory was awful and I felt terrible.

 

I called the OB and they fit me in the next day.  Thankfully, she listened to me and agreed that I didn’t sound depressed.  I have no thoughts of hurting myself or my children.  In fact, I was so anxiety ridden over someone getting hurt that I can’t handle going anywhere because of all the hidden dangers.  She originally wanted to prescribe something as-needed for my anxiety but after expressing that my anxiety was pretty constant and that I was exhausted she said to try Zoloft.  It is an anti-depressant but also has great anti-anxiety properties.

 

I noticed an improvement in about 48 hours.  It does make me a little sleepy while my body adjusts to it.  I still have LOTS of awful thoughts.  However, they used to be marathons.  Once a thought would penetrate my brain, it wouldn’t leave.  It would just continue to play and grow and morph into more awful thoughts.  Now, they’re like commercials.  They come, they play and they leave.  I can move on.   I’m hoping that once I’m at the full dose and it’s had a few weeks to fully kick in that the thoughts start spreading out further and further.  I haven’t had a panic attack since and I have a lot more patience.  Yesterday Monkey screamed A LOT.  And for the first time it didn’t make my brain spin and didn’t evoke that sense of panic in my body.  It literally used to make my brain feel like it was going through a salad spinner.  My thoughts would jumble, I couldn’t hear right and I just struggled.  In turn, I would get panicky, my heart rate would increase, my palms would go sweaty and I was ready to fight or flight.  I was panicked that I wouldn’t be able to get him to stop crying, that I was a horrible mother, that something was wrong that I would miss.  You name it, I was anxious about it.

 

But now, I can breathe.  The mind jumbling fog is starting to thin and I feel focused.  You don’t realize how out of control your life is, until it’s too far gone.  I didn’t think my anxiety was that out of control until I was sitting on my couch, holding a 2-month old with my 2 year old on the floor and having a panic attack.

The News You All Have Been Waiting For

Throughout my pregnancy with Monkey we always noted how DIFFERENT he was than Bear.
He kicked.  He moved.  Bear had an echogenic focus in heart that appeared at 36 weeks, while Monkey had a Single Umbilical Artery.  Both soft markers for chromosomal issues, however, by themselves they don’t really increase your risks.

After Monkey was born they noted that his legs were “a little stiff”.  And he has micrognathia, which Bear also has but no one ever mentioned it, much less that it was a dysmorphic feature.  Also both his middle fingers are bent like when you make a fist.  He CAN straighten the right one, but it isn’t easy for him.  The left one is stuck.

Our pediatrician planted the seed that we might as well test him.  I had been dead set against it for a few months because of needle sticks and taking more blood, etc.  I ended up calling the geneticist and she wrote the order for the blood work.  I had no intention of having it drawn anytime soon.
We headed to the orthopedist for some checkups.  We wanted to check on Bear’s hips. 
Hypertonia, especially as severe at Bear’s, can cause the hips to not locate correctly as he grows.  Couple this with his minimal weight bearing and it’s a recipe for hip dysplasia.  He also has a large lump on his rib.  So we also went for peace of mind about whether he has signs of my bone disorder.  We decided to take Monkey and get his hips checked as to whether there was any anatomical reason for his “slight stiffness” and check on his fingers.

Finally, good news!  Bear has no evidence of hip dysplasia.  The orthopedist was shocked and said his hips look beautiful.  And, he has no evidence of my bone disorder as of now.

The orthopedist straightened Monkey’s fingers right in the exam room.  He said there is nothing orthopedically wrong with them, they’re contractures.  After a hip x-ray he also ruled that there is nothing wrong with his hips.  He said it’s just with his really high tone (aka hyperonia) that this has happened.  Both Hubs and I were shocked. I really feel like everyone was trying to lessen the blow and completely underplaying how bad his tone really is compared to typical.  We only have Bear to compare him to and he seemed totally different.  He had a newborn head flop, he needed support from both hands when holding and moving and he moves all his limbs.

And then it was just smacked across our faces by the orthopedist.  On the way home Hubs and I determined to have the blood draw.  We dropped Bear and my Mom off at our house and took Monkey by ourselves.

Fast forward 4 weeks and we call the geneticist to check in.  Hubs goes to work and calls me about 3 hours later with the awful news.  He says “The geneticist called back”.  Insert a really long pause here.  I knew. I just knew. My stomach dropped.  Literally.  I had just put Monkey in the swing to nap. I was still half bent over placing the burp cloth across his tummy.  I lost it.  I collapsed to my knees and sobbed so hard it physically hurt.  “Monkey does have it”.  It hurt so badly to hear those words.  Hubs asked me if I wanted him to come home and through my gut-wrenching sobs I managed to choke out “It’s up to you”. 

He thankfully said he was coming home and I picked Monkey back up and snuggled him on the couch.  I buried my face into his tightly swaddled body and sobbed with my entire body and heart.  It really felt like I was turning inside out in pain. 

This wound is still fresh (only a few weeks old) and it’s really deep.  It’s taking a long time to heal and stings every time I mention it.  Evidenced by the tears I’m wiping away as I write this.

My heart hurts so badly that I’m afraid it will never heal.

Frugality and Ethnicity

I really feel that a lot of my frugalness has been handed down to me from prior generations.  My grandparents emigrated to the US in 1949 with my Aunt who was just a little baby at the time.  The three of them got on a boat and headed for a new land.  They were sponsored by a current US citizen so they got to skip the long lines of Ellis Island and landed straight in a big city.

My Grandfather picked celery for a short time before landing a job working with boilers (I’m not really sure what he did, he retired long before I was born).  My Grandmother stayed home and they added to their family with 2 more little girls (the youngest being my Mother).  Once my eldest Aunt turned 18, she and my Grandmother got jobs and took citizenship classes.  My Grandmother had to wait till my Aunt was old enough to get her license because she couldn’t drive.  For some reason, that whole cars-coming-at-you thing was WAY too much for her to handle.

I couldn’t imagine packing up my things and leaving my entire family (including 8 brothers and sisters) and everything I’ve ever known to go an ocean away to a new continent.  And this was 63 years ago, before cell phones, internet and Skype.  Now we can just turn the computer on and hit “Video Call” and see our loved ones from all over the world, almost instantly.

What does my long family history have to do with frugality?  Everything.  My Grandparents didn’t have money to throw away (even if it was the wrong currency).  My Grandmother raised 3 little girls by sewing their own clothing, cooking all things homemade, providing my Grandfather with his comfort foods in a place far away from home, and saving money anyway she could.  They lived in a city and walked everywhere. Their home only had a wood burning stove in the kitchen.  So every winter, they would all move their beds downstairs and sleep as close to it as possible.

My parents have held strong to their roots.  Growing up I can count on my one hand the number of times I had jarred spaghetti sauce or Jell-o.  And if we did have Jell-o, it was dessert with whipped cream, NOT considered part of meal.  I didn’t realize how ethnically I grew up until I got old enough to go to friends’ houses for dinner.  They ate spaghetti with Ragu and Jell-o with carrots in it, and they never would have had bread pudding for dessert.

I’ve been trying to carry on the traditions that my Grandparents worked so hard to hold onto, despite their long journey and tiresome life.  I’ve learned how to make recipes the way my Grandmother did, without lavish ingredients but overstuffed with love (and a little bit of elbow grease).  I’ve been living by my Grandfather’s stingy rule of BUY NOT WANT NOT.  He always preached that once you started buying stuff, you needed to keep buying more stuff.  He was a minimalist at heart.  If he needed something he bought it ONCE.  Meaning, he saved us his money and bought a new car so that he could drive it till it died.  Nothing he bought was disposable.
I’m trying to live this way.  I challenge myself to use as many reusable things as possible.  We try to throw as little out as possible.  I try to handmake gifts instead of just buying some cheap novelties.  I try to use as many cloth diapers as possible and we try to make as minimal trash as possible.

Have you ever tried cloth napkins instead of paper?  I bought these napkins in white when we were first married.  Once we use them we throw them in with the whites (and some bleach for santizing).  I even use them as burp cloths occasionally and they’re great to clean up Bear’s face and hands after eating.  I never have to worry about running out of napkins or needing to buy more.  I’m sure they’ve saved me money but they’ve also saved a LOT of paper products from being in the landfill.

How about rags for the kitchen instead of paper towels?  I do use paper towels.  I bought one pack of Small Steps over a year ago and I still have half a roll left.  Instead I use stained washcloths, microfiber cleaning cloths, retired burp cloths and any other clean rags.

Try taking your own reusable challenge.  It will save your wallet and our landfills.