My Kingdom for a Well-Balanced Cupcake!

I’ve never been accused of being a normal eater. 

 

I’ll try most anything once.  This is how I’ve figured out that I like items like squid, cinnamon pickles and kimchee.  I’m not so much a deep-fried southern snob as to turn my nose up at a meatless meal (beans and cornbread don’t count – there’s always pork in the beans, anyway).  I’m equally happy with a bowl of baked eel over brown rice as I am with a frozen pizza. 

 

But even I have to admit that the pregnancy palette is a peculiar creature. 

 

As I stood in the kitchen last Saturday morning with a scorched tofu hotdog forked in one hand and a slab of pumpkin bread in the other, I wondered to myself, “On what other day in my life would I be able to eat this five minutes after I puked off the back porch?”  (Rough morning concerning vitamins and asparagus.  Don’t pry.)  Tossing my cookies early in the day used to put me in mortal fear of food for the following 24 hours, but for some reason, this pregnant body seems oblivious to the normal aversion instinct that settles in after the taste of yarf brands my tongue.

 

I haven’t experienced any new baby-backed cravings in a few weeks, with the exception of a simple chocolate cupcake.  Well, fat chance of that, Carl.  As I discovered last Thursday, my favorite cupcake shop in Hot Springs doesn’t bake sugar-free cupcakes (not even for an exorbitant fee or the naming rights of a firstborn child – believe me, I asked!!!)  And the do-it-yourselfer in me quakes at the notion of attempting to concoct such a thing myself.  I have a darn good hand for homemade marinara and all things savory, but when it comes to baking, I fear that my lack of knowledge concerning the instability of diabetic-friendly ingredients will result in a nuclear meltdown in my oven.  I know myself.  Domestic, yes.  Kitchen chemist, not so much.

 

Being both resourceful and persistent, Nana-To-Be suggested that we refuse to be disappointed and scoot on down the sidewalk to a new frozen yogurt shop.  That’s where we found some brilliant No Sugar Added Tahitian Vanilla fro-yo.  I added pulverized pecans to mine (can’t get enough of those little boogers lately), and she bravely added some squishy pink blob-ball things to hers that were made of tapioca, I think.  We seated ourselves at a sidewalk table with our little cups of consolation and eavesdropped on the geriatric motorcycle enthusiasts conversing at a high decibel level next to us.  All in all, a very stimulating outing. 

 

Thankfully, I've rarely had to make do with any alternative to what I've truly hungered for.  Honey child, what an age we live in!  I’ve discovered that if I prepare my food at home under controlled conditions and with select ingredients, I can have pretty much whatever my fluffy little heart desires, within reason.  For example, one of my favorite things in creation is spaghetti a la carbonara.  Normally this dish would be a pregnant diabetic’s worst enemy, but with my handy-dandy low-glycemic pasta, sulfate-free bacon, and fresh eggs and parmesan, voila!  I’m  slurping noodles with my feet on the couch in no time.  With a healthy side of sautéed spinach, of course. 

 

While I wouldn’t wish diabetes on anyone (with child or con un vuoto utero), I can’t help but consider my diagnosis a blessing in disguise.  Adjusting my prior eating habits out of concern for A Most Important Passenger has effected a tremendous change in the way I feel from day to day.  It’s meant the difference between falling on my freckled face for thirty minutes after lunch and having the energy to make a few laps around the block following a well-chosen meal.  I’m very grateful to my doctor for not merely sending me home with a handful of pamphlets; the dietary counseling I received by his referral at Baptist Hospital in Little Rock has become the cornerstone of my food philosophy, prego or no.  Here’s some of the wisdom I’ve gleaned from this transition:

 

·         Fiber = FRIEND.  Sugar = FRIENEMY (as in, initially acts like a friend, then tells everyone behind your back that your hair looks like one of the original muppets).

·         Eating carbs can be compared to stoking a fire.  Protein is like the long-burning pine knot at the heart of the blaze that keeps it going, but carbohydrates are the sticks and kindling that give your flames that initial boost they need to get started.  Refined sugar is just lint from the dryer – it burns quickly, and then ya’ve got nothing but a warm spot on the ground.  Then everyone at deer camp throws empty cans at you for allowing them to get nippy.    

·         A balance of carbs and protein is important to maintain proper blood sugar levels throughout the day.  Eating my previously carb-infused diet is like see-sawing with the skinny kid.  You just *think* you’re having a good time when gravity takes its toll and all heck breaks loose.  Your butt’s about to kiss the concrete.

·         And finally, it’s better to enjoy a wee nib of the real stuff and savor that morsel than it is to have a faceful of its artificial impostor.  Sugar can be monitored and balanced out.  Aspartame is forever.

 

I wish you all many satisfying NOMS!

 

Love,

Mini’s Mom