It was almost three weeks ago now that my little friend the stomach bug decided to take up residence in my intestines (WOW, this post is off to a great start already isn�t? I promise I won�t be gross�), but I am happy to say that I�m finally feeling back to normal (or at least close to it), and my lab test results came back clear. Yesterday I ate an entire burger at my favorite joint downtown, and truly� it was a mouthgasm. Ask my mom. I was almost in tears, it was so good. There was a little bit of grunting and groaning and cavewoman sounds going on. Don�t judge. You�d be doing the same thing if you�d been eating toast and applesauce for three weeks straight.
Over the past three terrible weeks of the-longest-virus-anyone-has-ever-had,�ever, I have been thinking a lot about hunger. Mainly because I was almost always hungry. That deep, emptiness in the pit of your stomach, can�t concentrate on anything type of hunger. Sometimes I would just stuff my face with something delicious (read: horrible), such as a large McDonald�s french fry, but then I would pay for it in spades. It wasn�t worth it. Turns out I�d rather be hungry.
I would click through blogs or scroll through photos of those I follow on Instagram, and I�d see photo after mouthwatering photo of all your delicious food shots, and I would die a little inside. Seriously, there were a couple of times that I actually teared up, because I realized how much we take for granted the simple act of eating great food when we�re hungry. We take for granted the accessibleness of it, the abundance of it (for most folks, anyway).
For me, cooking awesome meals used to be fun. This was somewhere during, oh� maybe the first six months of my marriage? I was determined to be the good little wife that tried new recipes almost every night of the week, and I beamed when my husband loved them and pouted when a meal didn�t turn out as great as I�d hoped. But somewhere along the way, I burned out on all the cooking (as I often do with� everything), and I never really got back into it. Now I stick to tried and true recipes (especially ones that are extremely easy), and I grumble to myself all throughout the process of preparing a meal. When I�m not begging to go out somewhere to eat, that is. Terrible, I know.
But over these weeks�the hungry weeks�something seemed to click back into place inside me. Whether it will stay clicked remains to be seen, but I think I rediscovered the joy of cooking fresh and healthy meals for myself and my little family. All I could think about these past few weeks was all the glorious food I would make for my husband when I�m feeling better and he�s done with finals, and how I�ll never again take for granted the act of sinking my teeth into something delicious (oh, and then keeping it inside my body for more than 20 minutes, of course).
A few other things also occurred to me during this experience with hunger, one being that too often we don�t actually wait to be hungry to eat. Because food is so readily available to us, we often snack or eat a meal at the first sign of hunger (which, I think, we actually might sometimes mistake for the simple feeling of not being full), and at least for me anyway, this causes me to not enjoy food very much. Of course it�s never good to wait until you�re famished before you eat, since then you tend to overindulge, but I do think it�s healthy to wait until you�re good and hungry before you eat. I think this might help me stay motivated to cook real, balanced meals, and get excited about food like I was during the hungry weeks.
All just observations and thoughts I wanted to write out, for my own benefit down the line, as well as for whomever else it might concern. Hunger isn�t always a bad thing. Like every other feeling that�s uncomfortable, it just might teach you something if you let it.
Tune in tomorrow for some gorgeous photos from the farmer�s market. I�ve never felt more excited about food as I did this weekend! :) Happy Sunday!
(sneak peek of tomorrow�s post�)
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