the juice cleanse report
it wasn't my first and it won't be my last, but it was my greatest juice cleanse fail to date. not as fail-friendly as peeing my pants at the local amusement park in front of my very first date and subsequently being forced to watch in shame as the water gun booth attendant hosed down the smelly slash sticky evidence. but it was fucking close.
i was ten weeks post partum and about eight weeks past my patience of waiting for my 35 pound baby weight gain to disappear. i just always assumed that once i sneezed baby e out of my lady parts, that the extra weight would go with it and i'd be posting obnoxious AF #threedayspostpartum ab selfies and women everywhere would be like, 'oh my god jen is so annoying she looks better after the baby than i do now' and i'd be all like 'STOP - GIRL POWER, but thank you SO much!' but i was wrong. so in an effort to kick my ass into shape, i opted for shocking my system, per the advice of a fellow new mama. i called my montauk juice factory owning / bad ass cheeky boss lady friend and ordered a three day detox cleanse. like an asshole.
when one cleanses they are meant to begin to detox before the actual detox. meaning don't fucking order two shack burgers, cheese fries, and a vanilla milkshake the night before and pretend you're not going to want to die come the third juice of the next day. whatevs, i'm equally ambitious as i am lazy, and just went with it.
i kicked off my morning downing my first two drinks with no problem. eexxeceepptt that i started at 10am and it was about 2pm by the time i finished the second one. alllssooo i was a relatively new hot mama and hadn't quite figured out how to navigate taking the baby out into the world on a full stomach, let alone on a juice stomach. so shit got real, fast.
but i figured it was fine. i had only two responsibilities that day that needed accomplishing - 1. buy baby formula. 2. buy husband birthday card. did i mention it was his birthday? i got sidetracked from my responsibilities when i stopped by my previously mentioned new mama's house for a quick baby playdate. i attempted my third juice while we strolled our babies to town to pick up the formula. maybe it was the juice, maybe i'm a terrible mom, but i completely misjudged baby's feed schedule and midway through the walk she was SCREAMING HER FUCKING HEAD OFF TO EAT. but i had no food. just a growing pounding headache.
somewhere in between the hunger pains, last night's dinner revival, the head pounding, beligerent dellirum, shoving newly bought formula AND BOTTLE into baby's mouth, and trying to find a fucking birthday card that didn't make me want to punch mr. hallmark in the face, i gave up. i stood hunched over the stroller, near tears and seeing spots. i actually don't know how long i was standing there, but at least three good samaritans passed by and offered words of encouragement as i "dealt with the struggles of new parenthood." i literally didn't have the energy to tell them that my baby was a goddamn saint and that i was just an asshole that opted to do a juice cleanse (on my husband's birthday no less) AND the only reason baby was crying was because i forgot to fucking feed her. so i half smiled, smacked my head against the "just because" section a few times, and carried on.
i actually don't remember the walk back to my fellow mama's house, but i do remember the glorious moment when she sat me down at her kitchen counter, handed me a banana, and made me the best damn basic salad i've ever tasted in my whole life. she waited until i regained some energy and could actually formulate a coherent sentence before she allowed me to drive home. as i walked through the door, i handed birthday daddy the baby and crawled under my sheets crying for red meat and carbs.
and that bbq bacon burger, mac and cheese, sweet potato casserole never tasted so good.
story update: baby has since been fed, on schedule, from that day forward. no need to call child services. this is now a juice free home.