If We are What We Eat, Then...

This is how the conversation went in the morning:

ME: "Are you eating something? What is in your mouth?"

Baby Boy: "Mshakjhdfs fjmmmmm (swallow) NO!"

ME as I try to pry open his lips: "It is not snack time! I am making you breakfast!" As wet, lumps of chocolately bits splattered onto my bare feet. "Spit the rest out in the trash!"

This is how the conversation went last night.

Baby Boy: "Mama what in yourn mouth? Want in mine mouth, too!"

ME, with my back to him as I try to swallow whole M and M's which are sacred for potty training: "Nothing honey I am just trying not to sneeze."

BB: "No, mama. See you chew! What is?? What is!!!!!!!"

As a blue M and M escaped and rolled over to his foot, I knew I was busted. Then my sweet boy says, "Oh! Good mama. Means Mama peed on potty. Get M-uh-M's. Mama pee more?"

So forgiving at that age...

Sexy Sneaky Snacks

This weekend I am heading to the land of, "I know you don't eat meat so I roasted you a chicken."

I promised DH I wouldn't sneak a cooler of food in to hide under the bed, but magically this week I don't welcome a mandated fast. (I am in that special week before PMS when the tummy is as flat as it's ever going to be. I don't want to appear concave and have to hear dead silence I go to the bathroom. People love to spur a good bulimic rumor on).

So how to be stealth about sneaking my "hippie/rabbit food" in is the problem. Giant red coolers (all we have) don't mask well even in the pit of night.

I used to go down and live on bagels, until I read that they take 3 days to digest. Bagels were hanging around in the enzyme-line for weeks.

There is a Starbucks within reasonable distance, so I could pretend to go jogging and dive into lattes and scones and Wifi.

And quiet.

That actually sounds pretty perfect-I can hang out with all the other vegetarians whose husband's families really don't understand why they don't eat meat.

"Even fish? Really? But fish isn't meat..." Best to smile, nod and dream of foamy caffeine.

UnSexy Diet Disclosure

I make Darling Husband's lunch for him to eat at work each day. (The money saved from his daily restaurant trips goes straight into my Starbuck's fund.) An average lunch consists of a salad with tuna, carrots and hummus, almonds, granola--basically, very healthy.

Yet, over the past few months, Darling Husband hasn't been losing any weight. I have found evidence of Dunkin' Donuts and Funyun wrappers in the trash but since I saw them while burying shopping bags and credit card bills, I figured silence was no harm no foul.

Last Friday he was groaning and whining that his stomach was killing him. Knowing nothing I packed would cause such discomfort, I got him to admit he had a (gag) D'Angelo's Steak and Cheese Bomb for lunch.

"And you wonder why you are dying in pain?" I ask.

"Well, I got it on wheat."

Ah, men and their justifications...