I know I should not track my calories, because none of my trackers account for breastfeeding, and they end up making me feel horrid about myself as a result. But Fitbit’s tracker is so easy, and it gives you a blow-by-blow throughout the day of how you’re doing in terms of calorie intake and expenditure. Cool, right?
But I should not have told it I want to lose 7 lbs.
I even picked the “easy” route of 0.5 lbs a month. And I stuck to what it recommended (mentally adding 300 calories to my daily allotment for breastfeeding, of course). But seeing day after day that I was exceeding my calories, combined with a supernursing day* and a freelancing deadline, led me to crack: Last Thursday, I ate eleven million calories. Okay, not really, but I did eat probably 1000 calories in white bread and butter alone, and half that amount in cookies.
The next morning, my tummy was rumbling, as it does when I fill up on junk at the expense of real food. Anya, after giving me a hug, said, “You tummy talking today. What it say?”
“Probably that I ate too much junk yesterday.”
“Mommy! I very mad at you! You know better!”
“I do. I’m sorry. I’ll do better today.”
Now this I’ve gotta see.
Hey, if admitting that I screwed up gets her to eat better, it’ll all be worth it.
*Further evidence that I should not restrict my calories: Every time I do, Kai goes on nursing binges. I suspect it’s because restricting calories causes a dip in my milk supply; past pumping sessions have supported this theory.