So, the story continues from yesterday.
We woke up at 8am after going to bed at 5am due to one of our friend's adorable toddler who, after being safetly tucked away in bed for most of the night, was now ready to play with as many adults as posssible.
I have to say I felt thoroughly poisoned. Clearly copious amounts of gin is a bad idea. A Very Bad Idea. The boy felt equally rough even though he chucked up most of the red wine. Unsurprisingly we all felt somewhat delicate as we amused the toddler.
As our hosts were still asleep, we raided the fridge to find a suitable breakfast for the toddler and I suddenly realised something. There was absolutely no way I could stomach a food pack. I sipped water in an attempt to re-hydrate and had to admit I was going to be eating again. The boy and I discussed it, as eating this morning was most definitely not part of the plan and it's a slippery slope. I thought about it, as much as my hangover would allow, and knew I needed something solid to settle my stomach but there had to be a very strict line and once breakfast was done, there was to be nothing else.
By this point a lot of people were suffering, including our hosts, and more than one person chucked up. We are definitely growing old gracefully! I'd attempted a cup of tea but couldn't face it, and knew I was going to be sticking my head down the toilet at some point that morning so decided to down a lot of water to make it easier as chucking up gin and water is a lot easier than chucking up a sausage sandwich. However, the smell of the sausages cooking made me feel loads better and I was one of the only ones not to chuck up! Go me.
I was very careful about how I ate breakfast. The bread was French baguette and was cut into suitable portions so that took the portion decision away. I had three sausages. I probably only needed two to be fair, but I was proud of how I ate it. While the boy scoffed two sandwiches, I ate my one sandwich slowly and thoughtfully. After a couple of bites I felt better and was actually quite uninterested in the sandwich. Normally I'd scoff a couple of sandwiches before my tummy knew what hit it, but I took a long time with it. My brain registered that after a few bites I didn't really want any more but I knew my stomach needed some solid food so I ate the rest of the sandwich and paid attention to how unbothered I was, even though it tasted nice. I also had a cup of tea with some milk in it, and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it. Tea remains my emotional crutch after all this time, and I did wonder why I've denied myself milky tea when a lot of others on Lighterlife don't and still lose weight.
The boy and I spent the rest of the day sat on our sofa cuddled up in pyjamas with the cat watching Disney films. I heated him up some of the chicken broth I'd made a couple of days ago and had a good sniff but was happy to watch him eat. Still feeling delicate, I couldn't face a food pack but I know I'll be back on it tomorrow.