Some of us remember when Tab and Nacho Cheese Doritos were considered sustenance. And peanut M&M’s. The diet saw us through college and into young adulthood.
Instead of a push present, The Norwegian brought a case of chilled Tab to the hospital after Oldest Chicken’s birth. Eyes filled with tears as the glass was filled with that perfect labor and delivery ice. The throat burn that was Tab can only be imagined by those who experienced it.
Many children later, and the generation of women who swore we would not cook, tend houses, or be at the mercy of men, learned to cook for a family and clean up the mess. It’s coming back to bite us in the behind.
Baby Chicken visits for the holidays and issues a challenge–100 grams of protein a day. She promises energy, glowing skin, muscle tone, and better sleep. The trifecta plus one of maladies of women of a certain age. Baby Pea pipes in, noting more patience and a sense of calm. She already has the glowiest skin on earth. Okay, sold.
Easier said than done for girls who don’t eat much meat, believe in the healing power of cookies, and make dietary exchanges based on the calorie count in vodka and olive juice.
They walk me through choices, ways to up the numbers. It’s shocking the lack of protein in Diet Pepsi, bread, Nacho Cheese Doritos, and the emergency snacks in my desk. Pfft.
Supplementing with Greek yogurt drinks and power bars carries me halfway there. I’m also adding everything imaginable to cottage cheese. Choking down beef, pork, and more chicken than this human consumes in a month has found me looking for ways to conceal it like those moms who write about hiding vegetables.
It’s been two weeks. Yes, I am more awake during the day. I no longer have the 2 pm whine and slump. Hard to measure falling asleep faster given TikTok’s siren song. Jury’s out on the glowy skin.
Biggest difference? Full all the time. Really, forcing myself to eat. “Are you kidding me? It’s time to eat again?” I’ve even chugged a Chobani at 8 pm to hit the numbers. The thought process is different. Starvation is not one of the rules. Huh? The world is indeed upside down.
If skin experiences a glow-up, energy becomes a word to describe me, and I suddenly possess patience, I will praise the Baby Jesus and alert the new Pope of the miracle.
Meantime, there is still Diet Pepsi (Tab died a slow death as the girls know) in the fridge and I’m on my last bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos. One final confession. There is sometimes confusion when I open the fridge to find assorted meats. Once I even looked around for The Norwegian.
The Duchess Diaries 