My second day of mini-fasting this week is a lot harder than the first. I think its because I'm tired, and if there's one thing I know, its that nothing really drives the impulse to snack on truckloads of junk food like sleep deprivation. This is just a mild case: I stayed up too late two nights ago watching the "True Blood" episode I recorded on Sunday; and last night the kids took turns getting me out of bed after my own bedtime. I seriously debated not fasting today, but then I thought, "Meh. Who says it will be easier tomorrow? Stick with it!"
I made a spinach scramble for breakfast, but used too much garlic powder or something. It was gross. I ate it anyway, plus a bite from a banana that Stella didn't finish, and two bites of a scone that Nico didn't finish. My milky iced-coffee was a delicious treat on my drive to work, but next fast day, I'm going back to the oatmeal with blueberries and almonds. It was much tastier and more satisfying.
At lunch, I was ravenous, so I bought a 50-calorie miso soup. Its warmth made me feel better, and it tasted damn good, too.
Around 2:30, I broke out the zero-calorie fruit-flavored spritzer. Even though I've just been drinking liquids all day, the different temperatures and tastes feel like separate meals. I feel satisfied.
Also, I won't lie, I stepped on the scale this morning and it continues to move downward, and that is damn satisfying. My skirt is loose at the waist. DAMN satisfying.
An aside about last night: I was in bed reading and heard Nico talking, on and off, in his room. Something that sounded suspiciously like blocks clunked in his room. Then there were more soft words. I listened for a few minutes and then padded down the hall to tell him to quiet down and close his eyes. When I opened his door, he was wide awake, but lying down. He looked at me and said, "What are you doing here?," clearly confused as to my presence in his room at 10:20 p.m. I told him I had heard him talking. "Yeah," he said. "I had an axe-dent in my bed and I had to clean it up." I literally heard "axe-dent" and it took me a minute to process.
The poor kid was wet. I still don't know what he was talking to himself about, but I guess the clunking sound was him pushing his blocks out of the way to try to dry up the wet spot. I got him out of bed and changed him, and told him if he ever had another accident, it was okay to wake me up to help him. "Yeah?" he said, eyes lighting up, like it was some big treat.
We went to the bathroom and changed his sheets and then he asked me to read him a book. I really wanted to go back to bed, but he was so sweet and irresistible. So I consented, and his eyes lit up again, and I snuggled my sweet boy, warm in his space pajamas, and I think we both felt a lot better after that.
Not fifteen minutes later, Stella started crying in her room. I have learned through trial and error that this child will quiet quickly if you respond to her quickly, but will outlast and best any adult in the house if left to "cry it out." So I waited for a minute, sensed that she wasn't going back down on her own, and then went in to her room for a short snuggle. I held her in my lap, with her soft cheek tucked in toward my breast, and marvelled, for the thousandth time this week, over how big my baby has gotten. It was just a few minutes before her breathing was deep and her jumbled limbs were completely limp. I kissed her warm cheek and laid her back in bed, and tip-toed back to my room, with a small prayer for no more wakings this night.
My prayer was answered. And this morning, though tired, I could still feel the warmth of those late-night cuddles in my arms.
The days between fasting days are supposed to be "normal." As in, eat whatever you like, however you like! Of course, don't pig out, but don't diet, either. This was, surprisingly, harder than I thought it would be.
When I first wrote about fasting, Mama made a comment about how it can be addictive. After the first day, I kind of understood what she meant. It feels really good to complete a day of fasting; it plugs into control issues and gives a strong sense of accomplishment. The day after the fast, I wanted to keep eating pristinely. I was hungrier than normal, which was annoying, and I didn't want to give in to the hunger. I ate a normal breakfast, a mid-morning snack, and then met a friend for lunch. Unfortunately, I could tell the sodium content of my "skinny" sandwich was sky-high because my heart was pounding afterward. I looked up the nutritional information on the shop's website and I was right -- the sodium level was INSANE!!! That stuff should be illegal. Seriously. It took a couple hours for the impending-stroke feeling to wear off. So I was sort of uncomfortable and off for most of the day.
The second day after fasting, things clicked. It wasn't so hard to figure out what to eat. I made my own food and avoided any sodium bombs. I went for a run. I felt good.
I will do another mini-fast on Monday, but I'm not sure I'm going to do a second day of fasting next week. I don't want to spend more time feeling the way I do now simply because I'm not eating enough. If, on the other hand, a good night's sleep seems to make a measurable improvement in my mood and feelings, then I'll probably try a second fast day again next week.... unless my babies need some snuggling. Snuggling will trump dieting, any time.