Stupid Mother F*&@ing Gluten

I’ve experimented a couple of times with going gluten free…or wheat free. The first time was for a day and I didn’t notice any change. Course, one day isn’t long enough to detox from two glasses of wine, let alone my late night binging on breadsticks. The second time was for a week and I felt pretty good.

The last experiment was a little over two weeks. Right around week one and a half I started to feel…weird. Like, a bit euphoric. And light. And four pounds lighter. Surely it was just in my head though. I mean, eating wheat couldn’t really change your entire outlook and mood and belly size. Could it? Really?

So this weekend I did another experiment. I gave myself free reign to eat whatever I wanted. I didn’t sit down and eat an entire loaf of French bread (although trust me, I was tempted). I just returned to eating how I usually eat. I made homemade pizza on Friday. I didn’t gorge. I had two small sensible pieces. That night I felt puffy but that’s pretty normal for me.

The next morning I made cookies for the kids and had one. I felt a little nauseous.

Then I made banana bread and as soon as it was out of the oven, I cut a hefty slice, slathered that in butter and entered Carb Heaven. Almost literally. A half an hour after eating the bread, I was exhausted and took an hour-long impromptu nap.

 

 

My little experiment has resulted in a three pound weight gain, a massive headache today, tight pants, mild nausea and a general blue-feeling.

All because of wheat? Really?

In a word: fuck.

I think it’s true. I think that for whatever reason, my body has trouble with gluten. I never really realized it because I was always eating something with wheat and was just used to feeling fatigued and bloated and moody etc. But to go off it and then re-introduce it back into my diet…well…shoot. I think there might be some truth in this. I’m not saying it’s true for everyone, but it might be for me. I had diabetes when I was pregnant (both times), my grandma was diabetic, and I have sugar crashes and spikes. So maybe it’s time for me to stop grumbling and start changing my diet for good.

I’m so not happy about this.

I’m going to try and go gluten free again for two more weeks. If I hit that same svelte-euphoria feeling, then I just might be a convert to trying to live without wheat, except for special occasions. Like the Dumpling Making Party I wanted to throw. Of course, now I have to postpone that dumpling-making idea. Maybe we’ll do a tamale making party, or a paella night instead. I might be going wheat-free, but a girl still wants to live a little.

I hope I don't end up being really annoying about this. You know, sort of like this: