Day three. It is day three in the life of liquid dieting. It is day three in a household usually unaccustomed to hearing the roar of the blender’s engine outside of desperate actions to stay cool in the summer. It is day three in a household that doesn’t understand how people could willingly want to partake and live in a world of non-crunch. We are not a house of Gwyneth Paltrows, we are a house of Germans and damn it all to hell if we don’t want some pretzels and cheese every once in a while. Or, you know, every day.
Confused? Ah, I can see how that’d happen. As some back story: after my mom’s last dentist appointment, she told me that she would be having a surgical deep cleaning of her teeth. Her roots run deep, you see, so the canals where her wisdom teeth used to reside can’t be reached with a normal toothbrush. Where being “deep” is usually a good thing, in this case it came with a pretty awful caveat. My mother, the same woman who uses crackers and mozzarella to escape the world of post-work stress, would be barred from solid foods for one to two months. Pasta. Meat. Cheese. Bananas. Triscuits. Grilled cheese. Bread. Eggs in all forms. Carrots.
Everything but her massive collection of yogurt would have to be sacrificed for her gum health.
Being a good daughter preparing herself for bikini season and an individual unwilling to be the morale crushing harpy that gleefully eats toast in front of a pureed meal eating mother, I have elected to eat what she eats when she’s home (because we all know the allure of solid food will not be lost on me when she’s out of line of sight). So far, it’s been pretty easy. The delicious concoctions made up of blended fruit and occasional vegetable have been able to sate our hunger, the unique blends that the internet has shown us have been diverse enough to keep us happy, the idea of mashing potatoes, cauliflower, and stuff into those things, keep us happy, keep us content. We grin to each other over our glass cups, remarking that x “needs more spinach” or y “will be great for our skin!”
But, how long will it last? How long will we be able to walk into the kitchen and ignore the depressed cries of the unopened box of crackers? How long will we be able to sit idly by as the taco seasoning packets cry out to be sprinkled upon a pound of ground meat and ingested in a flurry of cheese and salsa? How long will we be able to deny our jaws the satisfaction of mastication? How long will it be until the cravings set in?
It’s day 3 out of a possible 60.
Only time will tell.
In the meantime, if my lovely readers have any dietary suggestions, whether it’s a blended soup (which we absolutely love) or your favorite summertime smoothie (even if the doom and gloom outside makes me feel like we’ll never see the lovely light of the sun again), we’d love to hear it!