About Me

36 years old; it ain’t the end, but it sure ain’t where I began…

I feel a tad bit rusty here, and I really should be utilizing Abby’s dwindling nap time to do some serious meal prep or yard work right now, but I wasn’t about to break my birthday post tradition.   They’ve really become one of my favorite time capsules here and I enjoy re-reading them each year as I reflect upon my year and think about the upcoming one.

Last year I had just finished my first Whole30 and felt amazing.  I focused on really trying to let myself Just Be me.  I think I did a pretty good job of that last year.  For the first time in my life it felt like my mind and body had been reset.  I felt energized, confident and happy.   I knew what foods to eat to make me feel my best both mentally and physically, and I could really tune in when things started to stray and when I needed to clean up my diet to get back to “normal.”  I still believe that Whole30 is one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.


That being said, a year later…I know I’ve strayed too far from what makes me feel my best.  The stress of moving and losing Summit led me back to some old habits and I started to notice Bianca creeping back in here and there.  So as I type this I’m on day 7 of a Whole14 to try and get back to that “good” place.

Yes that means no cake on my birthday.  No wine.  No chocolate.  No Big Dipper.


But really, when I decided to do these 14 days and realized that my birthday would fall in the middle….I sat back and thought:  what better gift could I give myself?  The gift of getting back to the point where I know I’m at my best.  For me.  And my family.

Besides, I can honestly say that I enjoy a fresh mango almost as much as chocolate.  Almost.

This year it will have to do.

So as I think about the upcoming year, I’ve decided that I need to put a renewed focus on myself.  Not necessarily in the same way that I did last year, instead I want to focus on courage.  To talk more openly about my feelings.  To loosen up.  To let myself have more fun.  To give myself “permission” to make mistakes (with whatever it may be), and to have the courage to move forward the best way I know how.

It also means that I want to really start evaluating what makes me happy.  And to start to find the courage to pursue it.


Life’s just too damn short.

I can’t help but think about my mom at these times.  She died when she was 37.  Thirty seven!  Insane.  I can’t imagine, I mean, I feel like there is so much left to do with my life and she never got that chance.  It really just helps me put things in perspective that you need to find your passion, your love, your purpose and follow it.  I’ve always struggled with figuring that and this is the year I want to focus on figuring it out and DOING IT.

To have courage.

To forgive my flaws.

To smile.

To laugh.

And to maybe whip up some coconut cream with that mango.

(hey, it’s compliant).


Birthday girl who will probably regret posting this picture, but holla!  It’s my birthday.  You’re welcome.


pssst….you can my previous birthday posts here:  32, 33, 34, 35.


…they are a changing…

Why is it that the highest highs are met with the lowest lows?

In the past few weeks it feels like my whole life has changed.   We moved to a new house {finally!}.   Outside of town.   With lots of room to run and play.   A house with room to stretch our arms that has my creative juices bursting at the seams.   With a WOOD SHOP.  And my {almost} my dream kitchen.  It’s close.  Oh so close.


And then just a few days after moving in, I had to make one of the hardest and most heartbreaking decisions of my life:  to say goodbye to Summit.    I know I need to write about this more but to be honest it’s still too raw.  I miss my friend.   I miss her companionship.  I miss all of the things that I thought I wouldn’t, like how she followed me around, and her little black puffs of hair everywhere.  Losing her has proved to be one of the most heartbreaking events I’ve had to endure in a long time.  And it hurts.  I can’t honestly remember much about my life before her…she’d been with me for 14 years and through much of my adulthood.   Every memory has her in it and she was probably the one thing that had been a daily constant in my life.  Losing that is hard.  Changing your habits is hard.   Knowing who to turn to in times of sadness like this is hard.  It’s strange, but it’s hard to know how to grieve without her because she was the one I would usually go to for comfort.  Whether it be together on a hike, or just snuggled up on the couch or floor….her silent companionship often comforted me in times like this.   I feel a little lost and a little empty.


Needless to say, my emotions have been all over the board.  The highest of highs and the lowest of lows.   On one hand, trying to get excited about the house and all of my projects seems trivial.  On the other, I know that it’s a blessing to have so many things to do that will preoccupy my mind.    And in the end, I just know that focusing on things that I enjoy, and the things that I love to do will be healing.

On top of it all, we decided to potty train Abby right smack dab in the middle of all of this.  Which has turned out, quite frankly, to be the easiest thing on my plate.  She’s actually done great through all of this transition and loves her big girl room and her playroom.  I am so thankful that she is adjusting so well and she definitely brings a smile to my face everyday.  She is so funny and inquisitive and sweet.   The love I have for that little one is fierce and in some ways her innocence and not-quite-old-enough-to-understand these sort of things has been a nice distraction.


And THEN….(yes there’s more)…there’s the sugar dragon.  Yeah, after almost a full year of learning about food and really making it my focus to fix bad habits, be healthy and eat food that makes me feel my best….I’ve gone an woken up my sugar dragon.    Ok so I’m not popping Skittles and mowing down Snickers….but I definitely catch myself mindlessly eating chocolate chips, dried mango and paleo-fied baked goods.  Oh yeah, and wine.  And beer.  All of which is basically sugar.  And it makes me angry because after trying so hard, for so long, it seems like I haven’t quite broken that habit of turning to food in times of stress.   It’s frustrating.  I know there’s been a lot going on for me but I just wish I would remember that the one thing I can control is how I feed my body, and feeding my body junk (or heck, even too much “healthy” treats like dried fruit) isn’t going to make me feel good.

I honestly didn’t write this post to complain.  Or to make anyone worry.  I just need to process all of this and ya’ll know that for me, writing it out helps.   And I want you to know that I do feel hopeful.   For the first time in a long time, I have a project list.  I have things that I can’t wait to get home and work on.  I know how to slay that dragon and it’s just a matter of committing to whole30 again.  So while things have changed, I know I have the tools to find my path again.   And my support system, my family, is still right by my side so in that sense, I probably have everything I really need.

An oldie but goodie

Did you know that I started this blog in 2011 as a New Years Resolution?   It was about that time that I really got into reading other blogs and I was in awe of the projects, stories and everyday life people were sharing.  I started to learn that there was this big ‘ol world in the Blogsphere where you could connect with someone halfway around the globe.  You could learn how to make something new.  You could get the confidence to do something out of your comfort zone.  You could shed a tear while reading a post written by a person you’d never met.  It was so exciting, comforting and fulfilling in a weird sort of way, and I wanted to share too.  I wanted to make connections.  And I wanted to inspire other people.

Anyhoo, the other day I was going back through some of my posts (I got suckered in by the “Related Post” widget that pops up at the end of each post) and had a grand old time re-reading some of my earlier entries.  Forget inspiration, turns out I can be quite funny too, amiright?

I ended up coming across the story about el Sheepo, whom I would gladly forget about except that he is lying right next to our computer desk, so he stares at me incessantly when I write, and I was cracking up.  Since I have quite a few more readers than I did back in 2011, I thought I’d reshare it today.  Seems fitting since it’s hunting season and all.

So whether this is your first, second (or third?) time reading this post, enjoy.  (Please excuse the poor pictures and red kitchen!  Both have improved since then!)


The first question The Hubs asked when I told him I was going to start a blog was:  “Oh great.  Are you going to use it to talk bad about me on the Internets?”

Who me? Do what??

Honestly!  I see no reason to use this medium to complain about The Hubs.  Yes, it’s a place for me to talk about events happening in my life, voice my opinions  and discuss whatever else I deem important.  But to air my dirty laundry?  I don’t think so.  That’s what girlfriends and wine are for.  Of course there are times where I may pick on him…just because he gives me such great material….but I would never write about anything private between the two of us, or dish on something that was hurtful.  I’m not heartless!  I know where to draw the line.   So, know that when I write things that seem to poke fun of him; it’s all done with the best intentions and probably to get a laugh out of someone (myself included).  Because I know that some of you out there can relate to what I’m saying.  And laughter is the best medicine, right?

That being said though…I did warn him that this particular topic would come up.  And it’s ok because he already knows exactly how I feel about the situation.

The situation I’m about to discuss is serious.  It involves my kitchen and a sheep.  I know…I know.  You’re confused already.

Let’s back up 17 years:  The Hubs is a teenager.   He draws a coveted Bighorn Sheep tag.  And I say coveted for a reason….some of the other phrases I’ve heard people use to describe pulling a Bighorn Sheep tag in Montana are:  “nearly impossible,” “if you’re lucky enough to draw one,” “you’d never have a prayer of drawing one.”  My personal favorite?  It’s the hunting equivalent of Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket.  Ok I just made that up.  But it’s true.  Another article on the Internet said an Illinois hunter paid $245,000 for a Bighorn Sheep tag.  Craziness!  So you get it right?  These things are pretty rare?  Coveted one might say.

So Little Hubs gets a tag.  Little Hubs goes out hunting and sacks a huge Ram.  Little Hubs is proud.  His Dad is proud.  His Mom is proud.  His sister is proud.  Everyone is proud because who, at such a young age, gets a Bighorn Sheep tag and shoots a huge ass ram to boot?  The Hubs.  That’s who.   All of this proudness resulted in a shoulder-mount of this coveted ram.   Yes.  That means hair.  And eyeballs (The Hubs says they’re marbles, but honestly it doesn’t really matter because eyeball or marble, they still follow you around the room all creepy-like).

Do you see where I’m going with this?   Do you remember me saying kitchen earlier?

Am I starting to sound (a) rational or (b) kinda like the mean wife who hates the coveted ram?

I can’t decide either.

Why don’t I take this opportunity to introduce you to the man ram of the hour?

There he is in all his glory folks.

Let me just set something straight before I go on.  My issue isn’t with the sheep itself (even though sometimes I feel like Harry from Harry and the Hendersons….wanting to look on the other side of the wall to see where the rest him is!).  But really…I get it.  It’s a big fricken deal to get a tag for one of these.  And it’s a big deal to The Hubs…so I have to respect that.  Did I ever think I would have half of an animal hanging on the wall in my house?  Ha Ha.  Get real.  I’d never even eaten wild meat until I met The Hubs.  Honestly, I prefer an antler mount (where you just show off the antlers…so no eyeballs) to a shoulder mount.  But like I said, I guess I get it, and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that “yes Janna, you will have half of a dead animal hanging on your wall.”

So, my issue is with the current placement of the sheep.  Remember this post where I showed you my spoon collection and hutch?  Something was lurking in the outer fringes of those shots…

Are you thinking “maybe it’s ok…it’s not like it’s front and center of everything.” ??

Actually my friends….it is.

Mr. Sheep has a front-and-center view of everything I do:  cooking dinner (breakfast/lunch/snacks), washing dishes, unloading groceries, eating, entertaining guests.  You name it.

In fact, to the untrained eye (unlike myself), he’s probably one of the first things people notice when they enter our house.  Here’s a shot down the hall through our living room (where the front door comes in).

Maybe you’re starting to see my side of the story.  I’m not sure where or how  “coveted  ram” fits into my decorating style.   In my defense, it was hung before I moved in…so I’ve kind of gently decorated around it for the past 5 years.  And it’s not exactly one of those things you can demand be removed…it would be like telling Charlie to give back the Golden Ticket.

The other issue is –assuming sheepo has to stay— that there really isn’t a better place to hang this thing in our house.  Our kitchen has really tall walls (that extend up to a loft above the kitchen) so there’s plenty of wall space.  In reality I guess I should feel lucky that the sheep got hung here instead of “in-yo-face-style” on our standard 8 ft walls in the living room.  I should also consider myself lucky that I came along when I did, because I know that The Hubs still considers parts of this wall to be prime real estate for future hangings.

I’m imaging a big wall clock here….The Hubs imagines his latest elk rack.

I’m not kidding.  There is currently a debate in our house about where his Elk rack from last season should go (something about how it’s the biggest he’s ever gotten….measures really big…..yadda yadda yadda).  Maybe I’ll write about that someday.  Ooooo….maybe I could do a poll and see where my readers think it should go!  Stay tuned….

So there you have it.  My biggest decorating dilemma.  Should I embrace the sheep and make him part of my style (you know, Santa hats at Christmas…camo in the fall)?  Probably not.  For now…I’ve chosen to pretend it’s not there live with it because (1) it could be worse (I think) and (2) I don’t even notice him staring at me anymore.  Plus, it’s always a little amusing when someone new comes over and I see them notice it for the first time.

The best I can hope for is moving into a new house someday where I will decide be an active player in the placement decision.  Wait, no.  It will have to be a requirement that we have some sort of rustic den or man cave in a new place.  Isn’t that where all the animal heads/racks and beer fridges should go anyways?  Not in a kitchen.  No no.  Far, far away from the kitchen where I’m actually trying to eat.  (Have you ever tried eating something with a big bowling-ball eye staring at you the entire time)?

Gosh.  I feel like maybe I have aired a little bit of my dirty laundry here.  I guess it’s just another day in the life of a hunting wife.  Trying to find balance between somewhat of a stylish home and coveted sheep heads.  Ugh.


Since writing this, the sheep head has obviously been taken down (not in any way, shape, or form, due to the post mind you).  You can read about that, here.

archery season opener: hunting-widow edition

Sweet Jesus the summer went by fast.  So fast that apparently I didn’t have time to blog about anything at all.  Obviously we have some catching up to do, and catch-up we will since it’s officially Archery Season….bow season….hunting season…whatever.  All I know is that I we have a lot of time on my our hands these days and I’m loving it.  This euphoria usually lasts about 3 weeks and then I get completely bored, overwhelmed with being a single parent, and cabin fever sets in.  But for three glorious weeks I bask in the fact that time is on my side.  Time to do whateva I want.  Time to do laundry (ok, it’s sad that I listed that first).  Time to clean the house.  Time to workout.  Time to cook.  Time to write.  Time to take that graphic design class I signed up for in April.  Time to think!    All I know is that I will not be frantically packing (and unpacking) bags for weekend getaways.

So to get me back in the blogging mood, I decided to document opening day, hunting-widow edition. To do this I snapped a photo each hour throughout the day.  Not necessarily on-the-hour, because surprisingly it was sometimes hard to remember to take one before the hour was up…but it’s kind of a cool way to tell a story through pictures.  And it sorta kicked off our hunting season (which admittedly is drastically different from a hunters) of being a Party of Two (ok, three if you count Summy).

I learned that I take a lot of pictures of my kid and food.  Clearly, I’m fascinating.

You know I’m dying to write a caption or give you a backstory to some of these…but, no, pumpkin, no.  I’m not going to.  A picture speaks a thousand words right?  So I’ll let them do the talking for once.

And hopefully, this will be my giant leap back into writing and sharing.

















If you need me I’ll be freakishly organizing and purging our house, along with feverishly planning projects I can “surprise” the Hubs with (who doesn’t want a tile backsplash installed while they’re away?  hello.).

35 years old; it ain’t the end, but it sure ain’t where I began…

I have a tradition of writing a post on my birthday.  It’s typically one that is a little more personal, a glimpse into my little world and my goals or dreams, or just a few fun facts to help you get to know the real me a bit better.  While I try to be as real and authentic as I can in all my posts, it’s hard to know what each reader walks away thinking.  So these are always a good way for me to open up a bit and share a piece of me with all of you.

So, this year I guess I’m 35.   I have this convenient problem of never really being able to remember how old I am.  I mean,  is it 33 or 34?  I just never know….because it all still feels like 28.    I have this fear that I’ll wake up 70 years old and still feel 28, which seems like a nasty trick.   Just stuck inside some old body.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I used to think 35 was old.  Like, ancient.


And now I am 35.


This year I don’t really have a list of fun facts to share with you (like I did at 32.)  I’m not fearful of the coming year, wondering what it will bring and terrified of losing myself (like I was at 33).  And I’m not really too sentimental about reflecting on the past year (like I was at 34).   This year?  I feel…..content.   Weird, huh?  And I’m not really sure how to explain it other than things are good.  I feel healthy.  I feel happy.  I feel like maybe I’m finally figuring this mom thing out.  I feel motivated.  I feel confident.

Content or not, I still find myself questioning everything constantly – how can I be a better mom?  Can I do better at my job?  Do I even like my job?  Why can’t our house stay clean for just one freaking second?   How can I strengthen the relationship with my Husband?  When do I get some time to myself?  Why are there no houses for sale that I like in Missoula?  Shouldn’t we be talking about baby #2?  

I mean seriously.  I question everything.  Big things.  Little things.  Important things.  Inconsequential things.

And the more I think about it, the more I think that’s ok.  I don’t want to settle and never question anything.  Questioning things makes you think.  It makes you evaluate your circumstances and helps you realize that if you don’t like something you can change it.  Or you can work towards changing it.   I am living proof of that.  I made a huge commitment to myself this year and put myself and my health first by changing my diet (and my families diet).  And I’m seeing positive results because of it.   And I did it because I questioned the way I was feeling; I knew it wasn’t right and it could be better; it could be different.

So, after a little thought and reflection about how I feel regarding turning 35, I decided that my goal for this year is to JUST BE.

be happy.

be thankful.

be thoughtful.

be creative.

be spontaneous.

be loving.

be unique.

be daring.

be me.


If that means questioning things, so be it.  I’m ok with that.  As long as I remember that overall I do feel content and happy right where I’m at.

I’m the first to admit that letting yourself “be” is likely harder than it sounds.

And I hate to sound cliche’…but as a mom you really do tend to put yourself last.  To put your own feelings, wants, needs and dreams aside so that your family can flourish.  That’s ok to some extent.  But you can’t put yourself so much in last place that you’re forgotten.

That’s why this year I’m going to let myself just be.  It doesn’t mean I’ll be first all the time, or second or third.  Sometimes I’ll still be last.   But as long as I’m being true to myself and honest about what I’m feeling then it’s ok.

I feel good about turning 35, even if it’s hard to remember or acknowledge.  I’m looking forward to this year and what it holds, and I’m going to let myself be happy and enjoy it….no matter how ancient I am.

I may also enjoy some Big Dipper ice cream and just be stomach-achy.  But that’s another story.



As always, I’ve borrowed my title from one of my favorite Jewel songs, Stephenville, TX.   Take a listen here:

a new adventure

When I first started this blog my intention was to talk often about living in Montana and the many adventures I find myself on – whether it be skiing, rafting, running, camping, hiking or biking, I’d say that the Hubs and I do our best to take advantage of living here.  I’ve written a few posts about it (like here, here, here, here, here and my favorite, here), but for the most part I haven’t used this space to capture those moments.   Don’t get me wrong; I spend a lot of my time and energy pursuing those activities, it’s just that when it comes to this blog I have chosen to use it to document some of my other passions – and who am I kidding –  to ramble on about nothing.

So awhile back when a group of friends started talking about starting an adventure blog I was pretty excited.  A team of contributors?  All with different interests and passions?  Sounded like a good idea to me (mostly because I could contribute, but really only need to write one post once a month).  Because let’s get real:  much more than that and TWSST would suffer even more than it already does.

If you want to follow us on this new adventure, check out Montana Backcountry.  You’ll find content ranging from hunting, skiing, mountain biking, backpacking, wild game recipes, trail running, rafting, climbing and camping.  Of course I’ll bring the perspective of trying to do all of that with a 2 year old toddler…so that always makes for a good story.

You can find us here:  Blog, Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook.

We are fairly active on Instagram and Facebook, and the blog is picking up speed.  So go ahead, pick your poison (or all of them)!

how I talked myself into doing whole30 (a.k.a. the day I may have gone crazy)

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I thought I’d celebrate by talking about my heart.  Er….my health.  Whatever.  All I’m really trying to do is segue into this post and it’s not working….


Remember the other day when I mentioned that scary, scary term:  elimination diet?   I want to talk about it.  So here’s the deal.

<<warning:  lots of words.  Probably too many words.>>

I haven’t been feeling like myself for awhile.   I’m not even sure when it happened….but it’s been quite some time.  I think normally people would describe me as a calm and patient person…but those aren’t words I’d use to describe myself as-of-late.  I am quick to get angry.  Quick to lose my temper.  I don’t have the patience I want to have with Abby (granted, I’m not sure any mother comes equipped with enough of that).  I’m snappy.

“And I packed your angry eyes…just in case!”  via 

And I’m T.I.R.E.D.    All.  The.  Time.  And even though I’m tired, I can’t sleep.  I toss and turn and toss and turn and sit there thinking about how tired I am.

As if that weren’t enough….the headaches I thought pregnancy had cured me of are back.  Ugh.

And often my stomach hurts after meals.

AND….no just kidding.  That’s it.  That’s enough isn’t it?

So really, I get the sense that things aren’t going very well for me health-wise.  Even though I DO exercise several times a week and weight-wise I am at one of my lowest points….these other issues seem to overshadow any progress I’m making there.  And I know that if I were to stop exercising things would get even worse so really I think exercising has been my saving grace these past few months.  I feel awesome after an Oula class.   The opposite of angry.

But I know I don’t have to live like this.   Angry and on-edge all the time.  Tired.  Grumpy.  Achy.    And the worst:  trying to hide it.

So I decided it was time to do something about it.  Time to OWN that anger and show it to the door.  Politely of course.

I’ve mentioned a few times that I struggled with depression prior to getting pregnant.  I finally got a prescription that seemed to help but I stopped taking it immediately when I got pregnant, not wanting to take anything questionable while growing my little critter (yes, that’s what we called her).    I contemplated going back to my Primary Care physician again this time but knew I would walk away with a new prescription that would essentially cover up the symptoms.   And I decided that I don’t want to cover them up.  I want them to go away.   I want someone to take the time to treat ME.  Personally.  Not just another “mom who needs Xanax and Ambien.”   (Not that there’s anything wrong with that!  I just personally wanted to try and treat this without medication first).

So that’s how I ended up nearly passed out in a Naturopath’s office.

True story.

Turns out finger pricking is worse than needles for me now.  Awesome.

Annnnyways.  That first embarrassing visit was nearly 2 hours.  Two hours!  Isn’t that amazing?  It felt like she was really listening to me, and asking lots of questions and actually wanting to hear my answers.  I had never really experienced anything like that in a medical setting.  It felt good.  She asked that I get some blood work done and we also decided to  do a food allergy test (hence the finger pricking….”ing” meaning plural.  I got pricked twice because one finger started drying up.  Ugh).   My friends….you know I’m serious about something if I’m willing to get pricked and poked, right?  I mean I may have given birth naturally but I’m still not a fan of needles of any sort.

Fast-forward two weeks.  Results are in.

My blood work looks good all around except for Vitamin D.  Which should really be NO surprise to anyone living in Missoula.  We have no sun this time of year.  In fact, she said my D levels were some of the lowest she’s seen.  So you can bet I left with a big ‘ol bottle of liquid sunshine (to be clear, I left with a bottle of Vitamin D drops…don’t want anyone getting any ideas).

My food allergy test was a different story.  An interesting story to say the least.   Possible sensitivity to:  eggs, almonds, dairy, barley, corn, gluten, rye, spelt, sunflower seeds and whole wheat.  Must I go on?  Because really….what’s left?

And that’s when she said it:  “I’d like you to try an elimination diet where you eliminate all of those foods for 30 days.”

At that moment I thought, “Yes, of course.  That is the most reasonable next step.  I’LL DO IT (aftermyvacationthankyou)”

Then I went home and I started googling.  Reading (articles, blogs, research).  Pinning recipes.  And I started to freak out a little bit.   Truth be told it was a little overwhelming.  I could try and eat Paleo…but paleo allows eggs and nuts.  I can’t have eggs and nuts.  I could go vegan….but I also need to eliminate gluten and wheat.   And if I don’t allow myself to eat meat then I really have no food choices.   I really will need to eat meat.

So I did what any other rational person would do and walked away from it all for a day or so.  I just needed to give myself some space and rethink the whole thing.

I think the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around was that this whole elimination thing was in my own hands.  There was no structure.  The freedom of “making this my own journey” was too overwhelming.  And that’s when I started seriously considering trying to do Whole30 – a program I had read about before that is even more restrictive than what my Doctor was asking me to do.  In addition to all of my “no’s” I would be saying “no” to alcohol (gasp).  Any type of sugar including honey and maple syrup (say what?).  Legumes & white potatoes (whatever).   But at least there was structure.  There was a clear PLAN for what you CAN eat and what you CAN’T eat.  And I don’t think anyone could argue that going without sugar or alcohol for a month is the worst idea ever.  I mean, no one WANTS to do that.  But is it possible?  Sure.

In some ways this extreme version of elimination is more comforting to me than trying to piece things together on my own.

I just imagined me staring at my pantry each morning thinking:  “my god I’m starving but I don’t know what to eat.”   That, to me, is just asking for failure.

So after thinking about this for several days, and reading a LOT about it….and being about 90% sure that this was the direction I wanted to go, I came back to my research with a different approach.  I contacted people I know who have done similar things (either an elimination diet, paleo, or dealt with food sensitivities).  I got their advice.  I asked for their favorite recipes and resources.   And you know what?  After hearing from them I felt much more confident in what I was doing and how I could make this work for 30 days (or more).

But I’m still scared shitless to be honest.  And most definitely over-thinking it.  Hey –it’s what I do best.

But it’s only 30 days.  I mean I can do anything for 30 days really.  After that I can start to reintroduce foods and see if they’re truly something I need to steer clear of, or if I can stuff my face with cheese all day again.   If I can be super strict about this for 30 days I may get some much-needed answers about stomach aches, headaches, tiredness and general irritability.  (Ok scratch that, I better damn well get some answers).

If after 30 days I can pack my angry eyes away for good….it will all be worth it.   Until they’re really  needed of course.

And since my Dr. has asked me to keep notes on how I’m doing…I plan to check in here on the blog once a week (now won’t that be a treat).  I’ll tell you what I ate that was good…how I’m feeling and if you really CAN survive without beer or wine.

Hate to leave you with a cliffhanger like that…but this is long enough.

And if you have any advice or words of encouragement for me….I’d love to hear it!   I’m seriously not starting until after my vacation (because my health can wait, right?)….so if you need me I’ll be taking a sugar bath.