Part One of the 'Vegan Series': Becoming Vegan.

I've decided that this blog is long over due for some explanations. Some are hard to read in one sitting so for the sake of saving your eyes from RSI (or should that be RS-eye?) I've decided to break up my 'food essays' or 'Vegan Series' into parts - after all who doesn't love a good cliff hanger?


So, why have I decided to write a Vegan Seires? 


1. I have considered dietary choice posts for a while. 


2. I have been living, breathing and sometimes failing at following a vegan diet for the past 6 years (if you're really curious, I'm going to write about my failings in another post, don't worry, we'll unearth my imperfections at some point.)


And now for some more honesty on this subject; I didn't want to write it at first because I don't want to get into the politics of food (like really, really, really, REALLY don't) and although people are nothing but fantastic there are those whose life time goal is to troll folks endlessly and sadly a lot of vegan bloggers are the target for the internet trolls.


I also didn't want to be known as a 'vegan blogger' because then people would come to expect recipes or recommendations to things and I'm not always the most forthcoming on that. Another thing on the 'vegan blogger' badge is that you leave yourself open to judgements about animal rights. 


I love animals and I believe they should have rights but I am not crazy on this subject. I tried to go to lots of anti-fur demos when I lived in London but they were always on way too early on a Saturday morning. I'm too lazy for animal rights protesting. 


And here comes the controversy: I do not condone any violence towards others, be that damaging property or hurting someone physically or emotionally. I dislike the reports on the news that focus on these 'affirmative actions.' I believe in non-violent affirmative action which is protesting, writing to MPs and the like. I don't know the numbers on this but I sincerely believe (through my own experiences) that the majority of animal rights activists have good intentions and use non-violent affirmative action. 


So with all these things considered it shouldn't stop me from talking about something that is part of my life and has been for the past nearly 6 years. If people want to be negative, I am more than used to handling it and while I'm not expecting anyone to 'convert' to my way of eating, who knows, they might. But I'm not writing these posts for that reason. I'm not looking to recruit anyone into my Kool Aid vegan cult. And I'm not even sure Kool Aid is vegan ;).


I'm writing this post to share what works for me and my family. I'm not an expert on anything food related or what works best for everyone - I can't dictate that to anyone as it's a very personal choice (and I explain just how personal food is later on.) 


Although, I'm not an idiot, and as respect is a two way street I'd ask you to bear this in mind when writing any comments - be that good or bad.


In the nearly 6 years of my vegan eating I've read both conflicting and supportive evidence as to why a vegan diet is 'okay.' I've been through different phases; the passionate and proselyting new vegan, the meat curious vegan (and by this I mean researching the way meat is farmed and slaughtered), the convinced vegan (convinced the pros outweigh the cons), the vegan wife, the pregnant vegan and now the vegan parent.


I enjoyed each stage as it allowed me to learn  something new every time. When I was new to vegan-ism  I had so many ideas of how it was going to be. Most of which never came to fruition.


After my 19th birthday I decided to become a vegetarian. I'd tried being veggie when I was 9. Back in the day where Quorn tasted like cardboard and doctors were convinced you'd shrivel up and die - actually I lied about the Quorn, it was pretty tasty. I gave it up after a few weeks because the food was limited. 


 I can't remember the reasons for the vegetarian switch-over at 19, but I think me and my then boyfriend (who will never be named on this blog because I roll like that) had been talking about trying soya milk for a while but what this had to do with vegetarianism I don't know.


So I went vegetarian. It was surprisingly difficult for me - I would eat something with meat in it by accident quite a lot and so I made the decision I would go vegan. Why? Because it meant I wouldn't have to 'watch what I ate', sure there'd be label checking and the like but it meant complete freedom from accidentally eating meat - if you've arrived at the conclusion I am an air head, you're far from the truth. I am not. I just get rattled sometimes.


My parents, not vegans but omnivores themselves, were supportive of my change to a vegan diet. My Dad actually bought me my first vegan cookery book (pictured below) - after a long discussion about how I could eat better to improve my health, body and mind. On their part I suspected a little scepticism at first, but that's a good sign. We didn't know many, if any, vegans at that time but seeing as I'd been vegetarian for the better part of a year and improved my general health I think they were happy about the vegan change over.

Before I made the switch I researched, read and got my hands on any evidence - either for or against a vegan diet and came up with my own conclusions - that personally, for me, a vegan diet would be the diet I would follow for as long as was possible. 


So how did the rest of my family react? It was mixed. At first I am sure there were major reservations - especially from my older sister. She was sceptical and didn't think the diet was optimal for my health. This was not out of malice, bad feeling or to drag me down. It was a very real concern on her part - like I said we didn't know any vegans so I would have reacted in the same way. Out of concern to a diversion from the norm. 


My Aunt was another critic (and I have no bad feeling over that, I am just stating a fact) on the vegan diet. We would have lengthy conversations about it; she being opposed and me being on the side of a vegan diet and it's positives. When I lived in London there were weekends and even a few months where I lived with my Aunt. I really believe this helped shape her perspective on my diet for the better and she would mostly eat the same meals as me when she was around me. And as a side note: living with her and the memories we had are some of the worst and best. But mostly the best.


The rest of my family joked about meat with me - which you have to expect and take with good humour. These days things are very different with my family. They have first hand seen the long term effects (all positive for me) it has had on me as a person. I'm not dead, I'm healthier and as a person I feel I've changed for the better all round. Most of my family have tried non dairy alternatives, some they have liked and some they haven't. I'm the same. I can't stand plain tofu or hemp milk. 


The things that made my transition easier were that my ex boyfriend then decided to start a vegan diet. Although he was less than desirable to be in a relationship with he was very supportive of the vegan diet. At the time my doctor had diagnosed me (wrongly) with IBS and   both me and the ex wanted all the help we could get to improve that condition so I could have a better life. A life not filled with fevers, cold sweats and pain worse than ten labours all at once. Shame that I didn't know what I know now.


I shopped in mainstream supermarkets as well as Whole Foods in Edinburgh and Holland and Barret - a chain of health food stores in the UK. The day I found vegan cheese I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. 

Vegan cheese on toast. Heaven on toast.

I ate relatively well in the first few years of vegan-ism; home made vegetable rolls, carrots sticks, cashews, peanut butter with OJ, houmous on everything (Zohan style), home made soup in varying forms, home made cakes, smoothies, home made sushi, tofu and mayola, lasagne, shepherds pie (with lentils, my Mum's recipe), apple crumble, pizza...whew I had so much fun creating dishes and being inventive with my food.  


But there did come a period in my life, mostly tied in with working and studying too much, when I began to really slip on eating. I had a full time job and full time studies - plus being full time sick and not knowing what my illness was. I didn't really have the inclination or energy to eat, even though it's what sustains us through life. 


At it's most basic we need food in order to stay alive. I've learned some very hard lessons from my period of not eating well - it caught up with me pretty quickly and I'm lucky I was able to remedy my poor eating habits fairly early on in life and stick to better habits.


 The truth is this: whether vegan, omnivorous or vegetarian we need good eating habits. We need 2,000 (2,500 for males) calories per day on average. Armed with basic nutritional understanding we can all form good eating habits.


Look I'm never going to tell you how to eat, you really have to make that decision for yourselves. It's a personal and private affair that is really none of my business - nor will I judge you on what you put on your plate. But I strongly urge everyone, where it's possible, to eat well and exercise, that's my message. 


And having given up chocolate for the better part of a year I really hope I am on that list of eating well (I know...I know. "Not chocolate!" but chocolate was taking over my life. And my jeans. It had to go.) 


I really hope this was a fun read for you - I loved writing it, re-living those early memories with you - and I'll invite you now to tune in next week when I write Part Two: Questions I get asked. A LOT. 

North of Scotland: Being there.

So if you haven't already read 'part one' of our little trip then go here to read it.


So...if you've read part one you'll be up to speed that we took our 19/nearly 20 month old on a long journey on public transport and all was well (kind of) by the end of the trip. 


I'm going to admit that I never took a lot of photos while we were away because I was so distracted or busy. But here's what I did get...

So...after our trip we got to my parents lovely house. Where we froze for the night until we figured out the heating. 


I had a few things to take care of while we were up there but once I was done, I spent time with the two of them. We'd huddle around the TV and catch up with Quantum Leap or Raising Hope (two of the best TV shows made, I think.) 

Roman loved the zoo up there. On the first few days the cats were very wary of him, every time he'd shout 'CAT!' and chase after them they were like speeding bullets out a gun. By the fourth day they would let him clap them. He was very careful and gentle with them. Shadow was the opposite. At first she would be okay with him, but then as time wore on her growls got louder. One time she even 'herded' him by butting her head on his side.


This called for splitting the room in two - Fort Roman was made...

More pictures...with a little narration. 

One of the days we went into town. We waited an hour for a bus.

The bus finally showed...

 (1) inside the sweet shop, loads of chocolate-inspired mugs. (2) 1,000 welcomes. (3) Thistle bag.

I really enjoy going to this sweet shop when I'm in Thurso. Pretty much all of their sweets/candy aren't vegan, but it's how I remember sweet shops; hard boiled sweets and other goodies in jars, known as 'quarters.' 

Something Scandinavian about this...

Bryan bought himself some chips...so we gave Roman his first chippy chip. He was a fan so had another. I think, when he's a lot older, we'll have chippies every so often. I hadn't wanted to give Roman any chocolate or junk foods as obesity, heart disease and other problems relating to food are such a huge problem in Scotland but I figure if we are sensible about it and show Roman how to manage his eating then we can't go wrong - that is far healthier than trying to not give him these things ever. 

Could he live without these things? Yes. Of course. But if we, the parents, are going to eat these foods then it would be hypocritical not to allow them. 

And since we're talking about food. This is how vegans cook anything that requires eggs (although, not really, I just use oil when I don't have egg replacer.)

And it comes up looking like wall paper paste. Yummy wall paper paste. Mmm.

{Peanut butter and chocolate button cookies - not a fan of the buttons but there were hardly any in there.}

To finish: some yummy 'cakies' which were meant to be cookies but baked big and cake-like.

And this, my friends, concludes our little holiday up north. Going home was hilarious...but that's another story ;). 

Easter.

I could overwhelm you with my heart felt beliefs about Easter.

I could write a poem and post it on here about Easter.

I could sing you a song about Easter.

Instead, I decided to make a video of Roman opening his first ever Easter egg.

(Excuse my croaky voice, I have had a sore throat for about two weeks now and I'm slowly losing my voice.)

This is his second Easter but his first time with his own whole Easter egg.

When I was a kid there was no strict policing on Easter eggs that I seem to recall - you were given the eggs and gorged on them until you were sick - and in my case that happened a lot, because I was greedy and had no will power when it came to sweet 'treats' (is it really a treat when too much of the good stuff can cause Type 2 Diabetes?)

Buut I do remember one year; we got Cadbury's Creme Eggs every single year from my Granny and Granpa Kirk. Without fail. I loved this because Creme Eggs were my favourite of favourites. And let's face it every piece of confectionery was my favourite - I didn't discriminate. Well, this one year, my parents got the Creme Eggs early. Not wanting to release the goods until nearer Easter they kept them in a 'safe' cupboard (where little children wouldn't go prying, I assume.)

Well, one night, the Creme Eggs started calling out to them. And do you know what those little Creme Eggs were saying?

"EAT ME! EAT ME! EAT ME!"

And so they did. It must have taken them a while to plough through 6x4 Creme Eggs (you do the calculations), but they were scoffed. We didn't get Creme Eggs that year.

As a parent I had my own Creme Egg Incident this year - minus the Creme Eggs.

Roman got his egg early, too, you see. And in this egg package was a bar of chocolate. As you may or may not know I have given up chocolate - I don't want Type 2 Diabetes, seriously, I am paranoid about this.

However, one night, it was shouting at me. Over and over again. And do you know what it was saying?

"EAT ME! EAT ME! EAT ME!"

And well, it had been a long day where I'd missed at least two meals - I sometimes get so tired that lifting a fork is a great effort - and I felt like eating it. 

I split it with B (who got about 4 squares) and did I feel bad? A little bit. You see I was literally stealing candy from a baby*. 

And well, it never tasted so good ;).

*Roman disclaimer: I really have nothing to say for myself on this matter. I did a bad thing. I broke my chocolate fast. But let's be real here for a second, (and justify our wrongs) how long would it have taken one little boy to get through so much chocolate? Exactly. I rest my case.

First Tastes...

I think baby food looks like baby poop. I won't go into any more detail than that because it is pretty self explanatory right there.

However, Roman does not think it tastes like poop - or else I really hope he doesn't or we have one weird little man on our hands. He had his first tastes this week (Mum Confession: I slipped him the tiniest of tiny tastes of mango a few weeks ago. If he develops Crohns or Ulcerative Colitis then I guess I will blame it on this incident).

Carrot and potato.

I had a bit of a freak-out because Bryan (whoseneverlookedafterababyeverbeforeinhislife) didn't cook the carrots properly. They were mushy, but not mushy enough. I would say that I am pretty much a diva, but when it comes to my baby...I am a Godzilla Diva.

I don't get diva about a lot of things, but when I do...you better shut up, do what I ask or leave the room. I don't know where my diva outbursts were learnt - certainly not at home, definitely not at church and most certainly not at school. I think time and time again I got pretty sick of being nice to people so much and one day I think I spontaneously combusted and haven't looked back since. And I am glad. Because when I throw a hissy fit, things get done. Positive and useful things.

In my childhood home arguing was the order of the day. We were like a mini law society, each fighting our own corner and I absolutely thrived on that atmosphere - sounds like Social Services should have been called, but it wasn't that sort of arguing.

With Bryan I argue and he rolls his eyes (behind my back of course...imagine if he did it to my face, he'd have his head metaphorically ripped off his shoulders in no time). Sometimes, just sometimes he says something back and wins - it's rare but does happen - or there might be times where I even think he has a point to what he says. I can categorically state right now that this phenomenon has never happened with any man I have been involved romantically with - in my eyes the only smart thing they have done with their life is to date me. Don't I sound just catty? I say these things with a pinch of sarcasm and a huge dose of humour, naturally...but perhaps there's a smidgen of reality as well.

So, back to the carrots. I asked Bryan to cook them until they were like mush - very, very mushy mush. I know what I'm talking about because I've seen how mushy little people with no teeth need their food. So he cooked them and served them up. They were chunky. They were not mushy mush. I think I flew off into a rage - Bryan can tell you the exact details if you need to know - and this rage was all because of carrots. What the heck? I am out of control at times and I know. Bryan knows it. I think even Roman knows it.

Like a good husband does, he said nothing. Then he took the baby and slinked off to Tesco...I was still ranting as he left - I don't know who I was talking too, I was just mad as hell. While I was at home in floods of tears - eh, hello, again what the hell? The Good Husband (like the Good Samaritan, but better) picked up a few jars of baby food.

Also, it wasn't "mum's choice" and not because I didn't personally go along and select a couple jars of baby poop...sorry, I mean baby food jars from the shelves of our local Tesco. Mum's choice was to feed baby exclusively on breast milk for the first six months of his life - this is so unreasonable for so many reasons in our circumstances and I will just say we have a hungry man on our hands and leave the judgements for every one else to make because I am not listening.

Mum's choice was to buy fresh vegetables and cook them up and serve to baby. I know these baby food jars claim to have no preservatives etc. in them but I find it a little gross that mushed up veg has been sitting on a shelf for so long. Either way, the Boy loved his first solids (I try to pretend that doesn't remind me of poop) and he couldn't get enough of the stuff - literally. I didn't want to push his digestive system too much too soon so we only offered him a few spoonfuls at every feed.

I think I was so emotionally charged about feeding him his solids because it means a break in breastfeeding - it comes very welcomed, but it does mark another bitter-sweet milestone and is a reminder that he won't stay tiny for long. I was literally a mess that we'd "screwed up" his first feed. I wanted it to be perfect. I know that is a ridiculous expectation, but I can't help this need to make everything I do just perfect, especially when it comes to Baby Boy.

He of course didn't notice anything going on other than his nappy needed changed and his tummy was empty, so why can't I be more like him in my attitude towards life? Relaxed. Secure. Confident that maybe this time and a few other times after it that things really will be okay. Because it was and all it needed was a dose of Bryan and a jar of baby food to make things just fine.

Mama with a Camera.

Our second child was born two weeks ago. Or should I say, we adopted.

From Cash Converters.

Now, I know what you're thinking and no, I didn't pull a Madonna. I bought a new camera for my 365 Project.

I felt sick at the thought of purchasing such a camera. Why? Well, because it's big. I know that's a lame line of logic (ooh, with this alliteration I really am spoiling you, dear reader) but that was one of my reasons. To illustrate my point I bring you to Exhibit A (to your left), a photograph I half-inched from Google.

This was not my choice of camera.

1. I had wanted a professional DSLR camera - lens quality is improved by adding lenses, whereas this Little Fish has a fixed lens. It's also a point & shoot camera. But it introduces me to the World of Photograpy - a World I'm totally loving and geeking up.

2. I had wanted to spend a lot more money on a camera. Not because I don't know what I'm buying - I did my homework. I wanted a Canon 40D DSLR because I have seen the picture quality it produces and my tongue was positively hanging out for one (picture a dog on a hot day).

3. Said Canon 40D camera's are mighty expensive. We're talking about £400-500 for a used camera.

So my decision was made. I have to admit to feeling like a kid at Christmas finding this camera in Cash Converters - it was under priced, even for a used camera of it's calibre. And no I'm not telling the World how much we spent on this camera. Just be happy that it was under priced. I know I am.

I've loved every minute of owning this camera. As soon as I got home I was snapping photos - it's heavier than your average digital camera so I had to get used to that. I also had to get used to something I absolutely loathe - flash photography.

I'm a firm believer in natural light - to the point where I'd given up taking pictures at night. But then I realised that with the flash on my photographs were less blurry and less grainy.

There's loads I have yet to learn, of course, but right now I'm thoroughly loving this baby. And so is Baby Bear. He knows the camera now. Every time he see's it he stops whatever he's doing - usually crying - looks up to the lens, flashes about a million poses that I can snap and spread all over the Web.

Though, he's not your average model, because he likes to eat carbs...