A year of pescetarian parenting and related discoveries.

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Tuesday, January 19

She said sheepishly...

     I have to confess to being a cheater. Nothing like the Tiger Woods variety of roving, but I roved, and I feel I must dislcose to you the full extent of my errant behavior. The guilt is getting to me. I don't know how Tiger copes.
     I went away for the weekend. A rather romantic and really rare getaway with my meat-eating man. Ordering out in restauants wasn't any problem, but I caved at breakfast in the morning. Somehow the fact that we were staying in a bed and breakfast, where I had paid for a full breakfast, that everyone else around me was enjoying, was just too much for me. I didn't eat the whole order, Joe was happy to accept my extra sausage link, but I did this two mornings in a row. I kept thinking that I was on vacation so a little  bit of leniency was allowed. I also knew that my children who were in different places, were almost cerainly thinking similar thoughts, and probably erring quite a bit more than me. I do think that the idea that I was going to be physically active outside all day also offered me further rationalization about a need for high fat protien, and that is a fallacy I'm going to have to come to terms with. I can say that even though I was only a couple of weeks into pescetarianism, that breakfast sausage tasted greasier than my mouth and mind expected. It seemed to sit heavier too. Or was that the guilt?

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