So as my most devoted of readers (yes, I'm talking about you 3) have known about me is that I've been vegetarian for over 17 years. I first stopped eating red meat at a camp I attended at age 13 because all the cool kids were doing it. Yes, I succumbed to peer pressure and wanted to fit in and be "cool." Did it work? Most likely not, but after 2 weeks of not eating red meat, I came home a changed teen. Yet I still ate white meat for another year, before meeting other vegetarians who were all 'you know you're not really a vegetarian if you are still eating white meat.' Thus began the total vegetarian transformation. I always hated fish, so that was easy. But being born and raised in the middle of corn-fed meat and potatoes Illinois amongst an entire family (close and extended) of avid meat eaters, the process was hard. My mom would put meat on my plate for about 2 straight years, finally realized she was being wasteful, and moved on the verbal meat-against-vegetables abuse. I forgot to mention I have 2 older brothers, so the harassment was aplenty.
Anyway, I moved to St. Louis with my then boyfriend at age 19. By this time, my vegetarianism was much more environmental (not quite too political yet). So for whatever reason I, along with my boyfriend, became vegan. I basically did this by convincing myself how much I hated dairy products. You know, ice cream is so mucousy, sour cream is totally unnatural, cheese shouldn't be orange, ect. I was pale, pasty, and ate way too much tofu. For years I suffered with horrible stomach aches from the excess amounts of soy products (its very difficult for a lot of people to digest processed soy products, but did I know that? Hell no, I was a cool vegan).
When Dave and I met, I stopped being vegan and slowly made my way back into the healthy ways of dairy, though it took a while for me to re convince myself how delicious dairy was. When we moved to Santa Fe, for some other random reason, I started eating small amounts of seafood (I'm talking shrimp and very very mild white fish). I abandoned soy, and alas! My stomach issues pretty much disappeared. After moving back to the Lou, I stuck to eating seafood maybe twice a month. I still considered myself vegetarian, though its not that accurate to do so.
When I got pregnant with Syl, I told myself if I craved meat I would eat it without guilt. Pregnancy is the only time I could justify it, so I accepted it early on. But my cravings were in dairy and orange juice, easy for a vegetarian! This time around, as I have already posted about, it was red meat from the beginning. I didn't want chicken, or fish, or simple a spinach salad, which is how I normally would fulfill the void of protein (around that time of the month). Red, red meat. Not a burger, or a steak, but a roast beef sandwich. Which in a normal, non-pregnant mind, I find totally revolting. I thought it'd go away, so I didn't cave. Until into my 5th month. I tried to fulfill the craving with chicken, thinking that is the lesser of two evil meats. But it didn't work. I felt nothing satiated with chicken. So I finally caved and ate some red meat. Lo and behold, I was satisfied. And oddly enough, after absolutely no cheating in this area for 17 years, it didn't gross me out. Maybe because somehow roast beef is the closest thing to fake meat as real meat could get. Its totally processed into strange slices and is kinda rubbery, which fake meat accomplishes well on its own. Since then, about once a week, I eat some red meat. And baby boy flips a lid every time I do it (such a male).
Why the long story? Well, I have time on my hands today.
It brings me to how I've dealt with Sylvia eating meat. I knew I wanted her to be vegetarian from pre-conception. Why would I cook my child something that I myself won't eat? Dave doesn't have meat in the house, so I figured it would simply go unnoticed until she was old enough to care. Then she could be well informed about her decision. That is, until mama got all cave-man and had to have it. So it started coming around. And the very first time we ate it at home, she asked for a bite. What's ironic is I can easily say 'no' when she asks for soda, candy, or total crap. But I couldn't say no that day. I mean, I was eating it and it wasn't killing me. So why not let her little, unbiased mind give it a go?
And what ended up happening, oh irony of irony? She freakin loved it. She ate half my sandwich and wouldn't stop talking about how yummy it was. No, I didn't ruin it for her buy telling her she was eating what once said mooo (though Dave later tried to explain to her on a different occasion that she was eating a chicken and it flew right over her curly little head). I didn't feel too guilty about it and I've let her eat whatever we've been eating ever since. Sometimes she says no, but usually she's all about it. And like I said, its only once/twice a week, but I guess I can't officially call her a vegetarian anymore. Or myself either.
Last night, she actually wanted Dave's burger, something I still won't eat. I kind of cringed, but knew I'd be hypocritical to say no. She kept insisting she got "more black part" which I guess was the meat. I had to turn away. My precious veggie baby is now a carnivore (like her beloved dinosaurs).
What happens to all this when I'm done being super-crazy-pregnant-lady? God knows, but it can only get more interesting.
