We Are What We Eat: And We Suck Because of It

Grocery shopping has gotten a lot more complicated since Meg arrived. It isn't that I am buying food for her (I can't even imagine the hell I am going to endure when she starts eating), but rather, it's because I have started caring about what I buy. Oh, and, let me tell you, when it comes to buying food, there are a million ways to feel bad about the choices you make.

It used to be I took two things into account when buying food: fat grams and alcohol content. If the former was low and the latter was high, I would put it in my cart. Oh, and if it came with an "instant" coupon, I would buy two. I called it the "Courtney Love" diet, and it worked pretty well. I didn't care about organic, or locally grown, or if it had more preservatives than an Egyptian mummy. As long as it kept me skinny and buzzed, I was good. I could get in and out of the store in a matter of minutes.

Now, it takes me at least an hour. Here is why:

1. I pick up an item.
2. I determine the item is on our list, and something we will eat.
3. I try to determine if the item is organically grown, because, after all, pesticides are bad for the planet, and will bring about the end of the world, which will make Meg hate me.
4. If it is organic, I try to determine how far away said item was produced, because trucks carrying items from far away burn fossil fuels, which cause global warming, which will bring about the end of the world, which will make Meg hate me.
5. I think about how much of said organic, locally grown, item will be left over, and worry about throwing away food. After all, that thrown out food will end up in a landfill, and landfills will eventually take over the planet, bringing about the end of the world, which will make Meg hate me.
6. I put the item back.
   

The first time that I went to the grocery store after Meg was born we were out of EVERYTHING. I came home with a squash. I don't know how I thought we would live on a single squash for a week, or even what kind of squash it was, I just knew it was the only thing I felt okay buying. When it rotted in the fridge two weeks later I felt like a complete failure.

I don't even want to think about how bad I would feel if I took the fact Meg is eating formula into account. That's why I tell myself it was manufactured by angels who replant the rain forest in their spare time. Don't try to tell me any different. I know Meg can't eat squash.