It started out innocently enough. My husband suggested we try eating Paleo.
At the time it made sense. We were already eating mostly veggies and protein. Most vegetables we like offer easy steam-in-a-bag options. Salmon and chicken, our proteins of choice, cooked up quickly on the grill. What would it hurt to own it and actually go Paleo?
A lot, actually. Namely, me.
I should mention that I was about three months pregnant when I agreed to this debacle. I could try blaming pregnancy hormones, but I honestly thought it would be a good idea. What I didn't expect were the side effects, namely me hiding in my closet eating entire sleeves of Ritz crackers.
That's right. I always knew that elimination diets were a no-no for my eating style. If I swear off cookies, every single thing in the world might as well be made up of dancing chocolate chips. Saying no to sweets entirely caused me to physically crave them, fixating on Twix, brownies, and bowls of ice cream (which I don't even like!) like never before.
So I should've expected that intentionally omitting carbs, instead of, for example, being too lazy to make rice or mashed potatoes on any given weeknight, would leave me waking up my husband to ask if he, too, could smell the yeast rolls that must be somewhere in our bedroom. Spoiler Alert: No yeast rolls were found.
That made him laugh, but when he found out I was binge eating Ritz, he put a stop to the whole operation. "No one said you couldn't have carbs," he said. "Why are you hiding in there, eating whole sleeves?"
Sheepishly, I replied, "Because it's easier than explaining a brand new sleeve open with only two crackers left?"
Our Paleo experiment lasted a month, and while we both felt better, my fixation on yeast rolls and Ritz was the ultimate undoing.
Could you stick to a Paleo diet? Or, like me, would your dreams devolve into dancing bread baskets?
This, friends, is the stuff dreams were made of.