Okay, so Summer in Chicago wasn’t an actual event this year, it appears. Not that I’m complaining, because I really dislike having to live through hot, humid weather [of which we did have a few days, gotta admit.]
What I also noticed was that I didn’t manage to get more posts up on my poor neglected blog, and amazingly we are now on the verge of High Holy Days yet again. Which, of course, means more menus and food ideas and such. Whee!
Food and eating has been a challenge for me lately. I realized the other day that over this Summer I had gained a new apathy towards the menu making/food shopping at home[in addition to gaining weight, much to my frustration vis a vis Weight Watchers.] I also had been craving bread and no amount of GF subsitutes seemed to work until I tried out Ener-G’s tapioca rolls. Warmed up, they kept the craving at bay without too much added calories. Still, this carb-filled baked-goods desire is a little maddening, and not fully gone.
I went completely ballistic yesterday at the parents’ house yesterday. I was already very tired and hadn’t been too ‘together’ with my eating –and certainly not with my water consumption–throughout the day. Being bombarded by my extended family for an impromptu cook-out at my parents’ house down the block from me was probably not the best thing for my nerves. My family hardly ever gets to together, and when it does, it’s a kind of chaos. That being said, I made a quick salad of lettuce, tomato and carrots and headed over.
Hamburgers and hot dogs were on the menu, so I figured I’d eat a couple of burger patties [no buns, of course; they're too high in points and not what I wanted], corn on the cob, and some salad and I’d be set. I planned for it, actually. So I was HUNGRY when I got there. Again, not great for social interaction. Everyone was getting ready to sit down to eat. I look over at my youngest brother, B. [the one with Down's Syndrome, and who was recently dianosed with celiac disease.] and realize he’s waiting to chow down on bread. I tell everyone within hearing distance to hold off on that while I zip back to my house for some emergency Pesach rolls–you remember, those really expensive ones I mentioned a few posts back. I run down the block and get back in record time to discover that my celiac bro is munching away on a hot dog, bun and all. Which my mother gave him. Which no-one even considered not providing him. My middle brother, D. when I handed him the freshly microwaved hamburger bun to give to B., for some mysterious reason, promptly plopped it onto the tablecloth [already festooned with gluten-filled crumbs.] Which was when I lost my appetite and emotional control entirely and walked out in tears.
Well, my mother called and begged me to return, saying over and over again that the family wanted me to be there, that they and most of all she loved me, and wouldn’t I just come back to be there for the surprise birthday celebration for one of my nieces. Oh, sure, no prob, of course, after all, family’s family, right? and I wouldn’t want to spoil it for anyone with my crazy eating limits or my pouty face. Right?
With some reservation, I gathered a deep breath, wiped off my face and walked back. I took along the Ener-G pound cake that I had bought online and a tub of whipped topping. [The topping had spoiled and I had to throw it out; few things are more disgusting than curdled whipped topping, I gotta tell ya!] I arrived in time to set down a slice of my cake in front of B., who was digging into the pasta salad, gluten-filled and freely accessed. And of course, he didn’t like the cake I provided, since everyone else was inhaling the pretty frosted poison that was the birthday cake. I got out of there as soon as I could…without a meal, since they had consumed everything during my little time-out.
When I got home, I made myself two fried eggs on tapioca bread toast and fell asleep before I could have some salad or water.
Epic fail of a food adventure, the whole get-together.
I feel like my family thinks this is all some kind of crazy dieting thing, my whole struggle with eating gluten-free, as if it’s some kind of joke. My mother hasn’t changed anything foodwise in her house since B’s diagnosis, and it’s always, “It’s too difficult, he eats it in school or outside the house anyway, he doesn’t understand,” blah blah blah. I’m worrying about my own increased possibilities of colon cancer, diabetes and other diseases, and thinking about what B. could experience down the line, possibly even after my parents can’t care for him any more, and she can’t be bothered to keep him healthy!
Now that I’ve rehashed that, I feel that some of my cravings have very little to do with food lately. I’ve just been feeling sick again, and I’m worried that other health issues are to blame. I have several baby nieces and nephews that of course have grown quite a bit since I last saw them and I’m feeling old and left out. [My oldest is graduating high school this year, my middle one is graduating 8th grade and my youngest will be in junior high next year.] I live down the block from my parents and I see them less than my other siblings do. I’m hungry for acceptance. I’m hungry for healthy relationships.
…and food won’t feed that craving. Never has and never will. Trust me, I tried it.