Stephen and I have been talking a lot about how we can be more healthy in our eating habits, and amid all the talk of organic vs. non-organic, processed vs. fresh, Farmers’ Markets and Whole Foods stores, there’s been an elephant in the room: my long-standing Dr Pepper-a-day habit. Soda is clearly toxic from all standpoints: empty calories, loads of sugar, caffeine, and sodium, not to mention high quantities of the ubiquitous high fructose corn syrup. In a conversation that has come to have room for $4.99/lb. chicken and homemade-only bread, how is soda still even on the table? This convicting blog post at Small Notebook further increased my angst about my very unhealthy habit. So why am I still drinking away (even as I write this)?
Here’s the short answer: I love Dr Pepper. I start thinking about it when I wake up in the morning, and savor the sweet, fizzy carbonation in my mouth around 10 AM, when I finally give in to the craving. A couple of weeks ago I stopped buying soda to keep in the fridge, planning to wean myself off of it by only buying it when I was out. Guess what? I’m out at least once a day, and if I don’t have an excuse, I’ll come up with one. Like the days that I “took Abby for a walk” in the stroller and bought my daily fix at the convenience store a few blocks away. Or today, when I went to Target to buy an over-the-door towel hook, and happened to pick up a soda in the checkout line.
So I’ve decided that I’m going to give up Dr Pepper soon. But not today. Maybe tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I took Abby in for her one-year-old wellness visit last week. According to the doctor, it’s time to start thinking about weaning Abby from nursing and from her pacifier. Oh, agony! Both of those are great comforts to Abby AND to me. There go my lovely excuses to sit quietly with the baby in the rocking recliner.
I thought back to the early days of nursing: Abby’s ear-splitting screams when I was even a few minutes late on the schedule, the discomfort, the multiple changes of clothes, dribbling ice water on Abby’s legs to keep her awake, the frustration of barely getting to Target and back between feedings. Abby felt like such a ball and chain to me in those days, and I cried for want of a few hours of freedom.
It is so different now! Abby only needs me a couple of times a day, and by those times we’re both ready for a quiet half-hour rocking together in our chair. And if we both happen to drift off to sleep, well, so much the better! I wish I could go back to that frazzled, weepy self and give her a little glimpse of how soon life with a baby would get much sweeter.
The paci will be the least of all of these comforts to give up. But in the midst of all of this other weaning, every little thing is about to be a big deal.
All this to say…if you notice the Watsons being a little cranky over the next few weeks, you’ll know what’s up.