So… I know I’ve been MIA for quite some time, but… It’s actually helping me a lot. Not worrying about taking pictures and writing down every morsel of food that goes into my mouth down my throat makes a world of difference. I’m learning how to be more carefree, less stressed and less picky.
Stressing over food is… ridiculous, actually. I mean, it’s so incredibly simple… You eat to live. Food is fuel. Of course it’s fun fuel, but it shouldn’t really be nothing more and nothing less then that. Food is necessary… to keep us alive.
The most important thing I’ve learned these last few weeks was that there is more then food out there. Food’s just a detail. Life shouldn’t revolve around food. I mean, of course, if it’s a healthy relationship, that’s not a problem at all. If you’re a chef or a R.D., maybe your life DOES revolve around food. But, if you’re a healthy person, you know when and where to stop. You know the limits and boundaries between your personal life, friends and family, and your way of cooking/eating. You control your food – not the opposite.
Anyhow – it’s funny how sometimes things are just meant to be. I woke up thinking: “I know what’s missing. I need to do change things a bit, do something new. I need to challenge myself, somehow. But… how?”
Behold, during a conversation with two of my closest friends at Math class, I hear one of them asking: “Who wants to go to the mall at lunch time? We could have Stuffed Baked Potatoes for lunch at English Potato. Or strogonoff! Gosh, I love strogonoff. Who’s with me?”
The last time I had eaten a stuffed baked potato was… maybe two years ago or so.
I knew I had to say yes. And I knew that I needed to face my fear, get over it. Baked sweet potatoes were fine (I actually might have developped a bit of an obsession here… Ops. I love sweet potatoes, haha!), but regular baked ones? Out of limits. Prohibited. Out of my comfort zone.
And what did I do?
I ate a strogonoff-stuffed baked potato. It was the size of my head, and unfortunately I could barely make a dent in it… But, still. I ordered it. I ate it. I was having fun with my friends… And not obssessing about what I was eating. Guess what? It felt amazing. So worth it.
Anyway. I promise I’ll be back with more stories and experiences during my recovery path, but as I’m in test week… I’m sorry for beeing so distant, guys. But, believe me – I still read your comments, and I still love all of them! Thank you so much for keeping in touch with me. I’m such a lazy busy girl – I have no time answer you back, comment on your blogs… I read them everytime I can, but that’s unfortunately not as often as I’d like.
As soon as I’m done with my tests, I’ll get back to business. Pinky promise!
Guys… Guess what?
I mean… guess WHO?
For those who said baby Miguel… Congratulations!
My baby brother was borned on September 11th (I know… the terrorist attack day), at 11:47am. I was at my Dad’s house, so I only arrived at the hospital by 3pm. It was a nightmare – all I wanted was to be by my Mom’s side and to meet the newest boy of the family. I cried for hours, until I got there. It was such a beautiful moment, though, when I got there. When I saw him for the first time, I knew. I’m truly, madly and deeply in love with Miguel!
He’s the cutiest thing I’ve ever seen. Seriously. And he’s so tiny! I’m always worried about hurting him on accident. He looks so fragile… And cute…
I’ll let you guys judge by yourselves…
What’s NOT to love?!
His name is Miguel Eduardo. He’s 6 days old. But most importantly – he’s the love of my life!
I’m pretty sure that all my future posts will include at least a tiny note or a pic of baby Miguel. Unevitable, haha.
Again, I promise to keep in touch with you all!
You’ll be hearing from me again soon…
Wish you all a magnificent weekend!