Folks. Let’s get real.

When a person commits to Whole30, you know it’s about to go down. To commit to going 30 days without sugar, bread, carbs (the bad ones), dairy (and I don’t know–everything else that we call decadent, and comforting) is downright borderline psycho.

So, of course, I made my family try it out for the first time last year.

We lasted the full Whole30 because it was I who was determined that we are going to tough this sacrifice out. And, sacrifice it was–after being married for two decades, I realized my husband’s addiction to crack… errr.. sugar. For two weeks straight as his body detoxified all those years of delightfully consuming gummy bears, skittles, Mike & Ikes, and vanilla ice cream–he was a sugar fein monster. A piece of lettuce may have accidentally dropped off a plate, and all I saw was Gollum arguing about not dropping anything on the floor that the dog may choke on. During that time, I would not have been surprised that as his body detoxified, he farted gummy bears, and broke out in vanilla ice cream sweat.

We’ve gone on Whole30 about 2-3 times since. Gollum never showed up again after the first Whole30, and in its place was a very happy Cardi B imitating hubby–bbrrrrppp (Google the reference, if you’re lost).

There were moments during the 2-3 times we went on Whole30 where he’d text me “let’s tap out,” and I would respond, “no, you’re still in charge of dinner,” that almost got us to not continue, but we strived on.  We did, at one point, decide to stop even before the first day–and we just laughed our asses off about it.

This time around, however, after going on vacation to Hawaii this past holiday season, and a quick trip down to Anchorage–we decided that it was time to go on it again. So, right after Easter day brunch two weeks ago, we went on Whole30.

And, right at 14 days in, I made the executive decision to go on Fake Whole30.

I’m not even kidding.

This is how Fake Whole30 works. You know what you’re not supposed to eat, so you try not to eat such things. And, you balance your meals based on the Whole30 philosophy: 80% Whole30, 20% WTF crap.

I’m kidding–not really crap–according to your own food philosophy, but crap to the Whole30 belief system.

Here are some photos of the beauty of Whole30:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here are some of photos of why it would be Fake Whole30:

 

 

 Especially if you drink this on the side:

 

But, all is well–if you limit yourself to eating this as a sides for dinner:

 

Or you have the following for breakfast, and lunch:

 

 

In all honesty–going on Fake Whole30 just makes you cognizant of how much gluten or sugar you may have avoided for the day, or if you ate a piece of bread, then you’ve met your limit–again for the day.

The thoughts on Fake Whole30? My daughter and I were like: meh, ok. We’re both still eating what we ate the last four weeks–except if we wanted honey in our tea, we put some in it. I realized, perhaps a bit late, that it is liberating to commit, and then decide IDGAF, let’s do it this way. We’re still eating on Whole30 for breakfast, lunches, and dinners (when we’re not on Whole30, we eat pretty clean with a minor detour to eating at a food restaurant).

So, the honey in our tea was our first Fake Whole30 thang.

The husband, on the other hand with his first Fake Whole30, ate a burger–and the most decadent chocolate cake in Fairbanks, Alaska–baked by pastry chef Marlo at Marlo’s Bakery, where my husband is on his way to a first name basis with the Marlo and her family.

 

And, lastly–the dog did not choke on lettuce as Gollum had feared: