Last night, I celebrated my first Mother’s Day with my little family of three. It was the plan to make it the culminating meal of this wheat bender I’ve been on about. Instead, I ended up with a breadless pile of crustaceans to crack through, totally wasting the opportunity while eating one of the best meals I’ve had in quite a while.


Later that night, I ate the last of the pizza, unenthusiastically, and today I sit before you – wheat free. Easy? So far, yes.

This morning, I had a couple of prunes, and I made some impromptu crustless quiches with fresh spinach leaves. My husband loved them and seems rather content walking around the house, munching on a couple pieces of dark chocolate and eating his prescribed serving size of plain Greek yogurt. So far, so good?

I do feel funny. I ate the quiche right out of the oven so it was a bit hot, and now I have a weird burning feeling running from my throat to my stomach. Acid reflux and heartburn are definitely NOT on my non-pregnant list of ailments, so I’m wondering if I just burned the crap out of myself, or if these are the beginning throes of wheat withdrawal.

I just got to the page in Wheat Belly where he says, “Trust me, it’s worth it. If you’ve gotten this far, I assume that you are at least contemplating a divorce from this unfaithful and abusive partner.” Hey, that’s my angle, man! But I suppose that’s the whole point here, right? Wheat’s done me wrong, and now he’s gone, gone, gone…