Jack Spratt

Jack Spratt could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so, between the two,
They licked the platter clean.

Have you ever noticed how nursery rhymes paint such a rosy picture, glossing over the ugly realities of a situation? Like child protective services stepping in to rescue the kids from the old woman who lived in the shoe, the SPCA prosecuting Old Mother Hubbard for neglecting her dog, or the third degree burns Jack Be Nimble got after recklessly playing with fire in an unsupervised fashion. And what about Little Boy Blue: "Will you wake him? No, Not I, For if I do he's sure to cry." I'll bet his dad gave him something to cry about when his dad found out how much damage the cows and sheep had done to the corn crop!

Kidding aside, Mac and I have been living the roles of Jack Spratt and his wife for the last month, and let me tell you, it is no picnic in the sun. Mac started dieting on January 2 (not the first, because "you can't start a diet on a holiday"), predominantly cutting calories by cutting out a lot of simple carbs. Meanwhile, I am in the process of growing a small human inside me, one that has to increase his weight by 75% in the next eight weeks! And while I have no specific cravings, I crave CALORIES! I want all the fat and carbs that Mac is so diligently trying to avoid.

Don't get me wrong, I like veggies a lot and a good salad can be quite enjoyable, but a bowl of lettuce as an entire meal? If you expect me to just eat a salad for dinner, you better be serving extra-large milk shakes for dessert with a couple of cookies on the side!

Unfortunately, Mac's resolve is only so strong. Actually, it is more like a house of cards, ready to collapse with the slightest disturbance. We both know the best way for him to succeed is to not have any temptation and so our cupboards contain cans of beans and soup; our fridge has cheese, and yogurt and, yes, lettuce - lots of lettuce. I don't get to have boxes of treats in the pantry that are "for fetal nutrition only" - it just wouldn't work. Although, I must admit I have contemplated some sort of lock and chain system.

Because of this situation, it may come as no surprise that two pounds of candy "mysteriously" made their way into my cart when Mac sent me to the store on a semi-urgent milk and fruit run Friday. I had crammed a handful of spice drops into my mouth before I had even left the parking lot. I stashed the candy around the house and joyously snacked the last few days, but alas, the candy ran out last night.

I know playing Jack Spratt isn't easy for Mac either, as I am sure he is not thrilled to be eating beans and salad every night either. Hopefully, in a few months both of us will be eating more in moderation and things can reach a happy medium, where we both get to eat a little fat and a little lean.