Day 10 – Hanging in there…


I gave into a craving yesterday morning.  My stubborn toddler appetite wanted fast food for breakfast and I’d denied her for a few days.  See?  I was a responsible parent to my appetite a few days and she wore me down.  (Here comes the justification… wait for it…)

BUT… I got a breakfast burrito at Burger King rather than the much higher fat croissant sandwich.  It still has eggs, cheese, and sausage, but in a single, regular-size tortilla.  And when I got home, I had some fruit with it and coffee.  The rest of the day went fine as planned.   Today, my appetite didn’t make any such demands having been sated with yesterdays slip.  Usually, just one bad choice would have permanently derailed me, leading me to a fast food lunch and possibly pizza for dinner and then the next day, why bother.  But I did it.  I gave in a little and was then successful.

I’m tired these days.  The world is wearing me down, and that makes me want to gorge on my comfort foods… macaroni and cheese, cookies, chocolate, crackers.  I’m sensing a pattern here.  So I’m a stress eater.  I feel stressed and out of control because there are so many things going on in life (not directly… the family is fine) that I cannot control by even a tiny bit.  Yeah, I can write letters, get involved, carry a sign, wear a banner, vote… but honestly, I don’t see that it makes a bit of difference in how things will turn out.  That makes me very frustrated and, well, angry.

So I guess I’m an angry, stressed eater.

I slept a lot last weekend.  It’s just easier sometimes to pull up the covers and sleep.  I have my handy, dandy MP3 with some wonderful Tingstad and Rumbel on it, so it’s soothing and comforting, drifts me right off to sleep.  And sleep I did.  Joe let me, for a change.  I guess if we can’t go out for breakfast, there’s no reason to get me up early.  Perhaps I’m a tad depressed.  The antidepressants can only take care of so much.

Okay… I’m an angry, stressed, depressed eater.  There’s another pattern!

At least Joe has been happy lately.  Not because of the world of course, but because we’re actually sticking the plan.  He and Bren are doing the bike more often and have had more energy.  I’m getting a handle on the the appetite brat.  And when JOE is happy, he cooks.  He bakes.  He creates.  And then I’M happy because we can EAT tasty treats!

All right… now we’re getting somewhere I think.  I’m an angry, stressed, depressed, happy eater.

Angry + Stressed + Depressed + Happy = EMOTIONAL EATER

When I’m on spectrum of emotion, I eat.  When I’m working, I’m usually just neutral (unless I have a job from this one doctor in particular… grr…) and I don’t really want to snack much.  Well, that, and anything I eat makes noise from inside and that makes it hard to hear what the doctors are saying.

But one news story… or one problem with Brendan and the school… or thinking about the world… or enjoying an evening with my family… all peaks and valleys give me the desire to consume.

Okay… okay… this is good stuff right here.  I don’t just feed the anger or the depression… I feed the EMOTION.

So that leaves me with a few choices here… I either need a lobotomy (do they even DO those anymore?).  Or I need a hobby.   Or I need to find some type of outlet to feed the emotions other than food.  Or I need to have a food available that is healthy to have occasionally to feed the emotion.

We’ve done some really good work here, people!  Take a break and we’ll re-convene sometime in the next few days to discuss our options.  🙂

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DAY 7! Made it a WEEK!


Yes, we made it a week!  Friday last week was a test for us… both Joe and I wanted to say screw it and get fast food for lunch and/or dinner.  But we didn’t.  We managed to hold off, perhaps because neither of us wanted to leave the house, but regardless, we made it.

Joe made a homemade lasagne on Sunday and it was fantastic.  He used whole grain lasagne noodles, which to me, does make a difference in the taste, but one I can live with.  He used light ricotta, fresh spinach, and our favorite jarred sauce.  Yes, jarred sauce.  He usually makes his own sauce, but this was a rush job and required immediate saucing.  Our favorite sauce:  Classico Sausage and Peppers.  It’s rich with the teeniest bite and has big chunks of green and red peppers.  (And I’m not a fan of green peppers!)  The great thing is that because we are a family of 3, this lasagne will last for several days unless we freeze it.  We are serving a 3×3 inch square piece and we had a huge salad with it, complete with romaine, tomatoes, and shredded mozzarella with light Italian.  YUM!

We decided the other day that Joe will continue to do the grocery shopping, at least for a few more weeks, if not longer.  I’ve never been a great grocery shopper when it comes to buying from a list.  Sure, I can get what’s on the list… but I ALWAYS end up with more than I find on the list, especially snack foods.  Joe is a very disciplined grocery shopper.  RARELY does he get anything not on the list, and if he does, it’s ONE loaf of bakery bread because it was freshly baked or ONE frozen meal that looked interesting and tasty or ONE cut of meat that is on sale… you get the idea.  Me, I usually get home with 2 bags of Cheetos because we haven’t had them in awhile or 2 bags of M&Ms because they’ll look good in the cut crystal candy dish or a dozen donuts because tomorrow is Friday.  Who’s with me?

I figured out one thing about myself so far.  My appetite is a spoiled toddler.  We’ve all known someone who has a toddler who is so incredibly spoiled, the parent gives in and gives her every little tiny thing she whines for just so she will STOP MAKING NOISE!  It’s just easier to give in than to deal with the main issue… saying NO and dealing with the consequences.

My appetite is that spoiled todder.  I’ve spent DECADES giving into everything she wants.  Candy?  Sure.  Donuts?  Why not.  Cookies?  They’re fresh.  Mac and cheese?  Who doesn’t like seeing a little kid enjoying their mac and cheese?  The alternative is to listen to her whine endlessly… by way of hunger pangs, headaches, shakiness and blurred vision.  Sometimes, the hunger can be like a panic attack.  There’s this feeling that if I don’t consume exactly what that damned brat wants, I’ll pass out.  So, I’ve spent many many years spoiling her and giving here whatever she wants whenever she wants it.

And Joe has been my incredibly supportive enabler, giving in to the voracious little beast… um… brat… whenever she whines to him.  He makes such wonderful cookies and breads!  He missed his calling as a baker, quite frankly.  He’s made bagels, donuts, english muffins, cheesecakes, pumpkin spice cakes, drop cookies, chocolate this and yummy, heavenly that.  Hence, my spoiled little hunger monster claps her hands with delight and devours whatever he makes.  It’s a win-win(-win) because she gets to eat, I feel satisfied because she’s not bitching at me anymore, and he gets a happy, satisfied wife.

Right now, at 8:36 at night, 2 hours post lasagne, my little food mongrel is whining.  She wants something sweeeeeettt to end the day.  I have two choices:  We have enough grapes for my breakfast so I don’t want to eat those.  So choice #1:  I can ignore her and the teeny headache I’m developing (despite pain relievers) will throb into a monster migraine-like pain.  Or choice #2:  I can grab 2 (and ONLY 2) Stickos and make them last awhile.  It is an hour after the Plan states I can have an evening snack, but a headache will only make things that much worse to the point that I give in to my toddler and give her the entire can of Stickos.  (These are cookies that are similar to Pirouette cookies by Pepperidge Farms, except the tube part is lighter and the filling is soft.  We get them at the Asian market Uwajamaya.  4 of them is a serving, so 2 is a nice snack.)

Will she EVER grow up?  Will she ever just let me eat what I need to and not DEMAND that I give in to her childish demands to run amok in the bakery or candy store?  I wish I could just stick a sock in her ever-widening mouth so she’d at least shut up and let me get on with my life.  Perhaps someday, if I’m successful with the Plan, she will finally grow up and be satisfied with what I’ve always lovingly called “adult food.” 

I am an incredibly lucky woman, though.  I was heavy when my husband fell in love with me.  We met over the computer, pre-Web, and I sent him a picture of me.  Not only did he not disappear (like a few guys I’d met online before him had), but he actually still expressed interest in meeting me!  He is notoriously anti-photo, so when we met, all I had to go on was barrel-chested, dark hair, dark eyes, and tall.  He never led me to believe he was built or handsome; he was honest, as was I.  But when he finally did lay eyes on me, he hugged me and said, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”  <swoon>

Despite trying diets, surgery, and eating healthy, my weight has fluctuated tremendously.  But Joe has NEVER said a word other than he wants me to be healthy so we can be together for a long time.  He prefers a rounded woman with curves and flesh, so he’s quite happy with what he sees and feels.  <blush>  And I love him even more for accepting me for who and what I am, regardless how others might see me.  He’s working on adapting some of those tasty treats he makes to be whole grain (whole wheat is NOT good enough), low or no sugar, and low fat.  I know they are still not calorie-free, but at least my toddler will be satisfied with a touch of sweet occasionally that is otherwise mostly healthy.

Okay, enough of my philosophizing for one night.  I actually typed through my craving for something sweet!  Woohoo!

Off to bed.  Night!

Day 3 – How did this happen?


To paraphrase Bob and Doug McKenzie:  “And welcome to Day 3.”

So far, so good.  Same breakfast as yesterday, and last night, we had the same dinner as the night before.  Gotta love leftovers.  The kid is doing a great job… he had broccoli and half a PB&J in his lunch yesterday.  And last night, he ate half of the lasagne he was served as well as the entire salad.  Of all the carbs he loves, he’s not a fan of pasta.  Strange, that.

So I’ve been pondering the “how did I get here” question.  I’ve seen pictures of myself as a child, and I was no bigger than most kids.  I grew up in Massachusetts on an Air Force base.  There were a number of kids on our block in base housing, and most of them were my friends.  We played outside a LOT, climbing trees, playing with our Barbies and GI Joes, playing in the sandbox (when there wasn’t cat poo in it), playing tag and freeze tag.  I was quite active.  But I loved to eat.

My mom is an excellent cook.  She made homemade noodles, cobblers, and bread.  We always had dessert.  We always sampled what was cooking, tasting from the pot or bowl.  “Finish your dinner” was a standard phrase.  I can’t remember if they pulled out the “kids are starving in <3rd world nation>” or not, but it was close.  And while we were putting away leftovers, we always had those last few bites.  She also made plenty of things I didn’t like, such as liver or stuffed peppers (I don’t care what anyone says… scoop out the stuffing and it tastes like peppers!).  When she made things I didn’t like or when we had a babysitter, I’d get my favorite:  Kraft macaroni and cheese.  Yum!

When I was 10, we moved to California.  Ah, land of sunshine and fruit!  Peaches fresh off the tree!  Grapes nearly year-round!  I loved fruit… and I ate a LOT of it.  I’d have 4 peaches in a sitting… yum!  But that’s just fruit, I hear you saying.  Here is an interesting site regarding sugar in fruits: Sugar Stacks.  There is a lot of sugar in fruits.  Granted, it’s a more natural sugar than candy and there are many good things in fruits as well, but at the volume I consumed fruit and the other snacks my mom had on hand, I started to gain weight.

I was lonely.  We had moved all the way across the country.  There was no email or iPhone or internet in 1973 so I was effectively cut off from anything or anyone I had known.  I was teased at school for being a little chunky when we moved to California and it just got worse.  I made a few friends but I always felt like I was a little on the outside.  Food was my constant friend.  It didn’t tease me or say it didn’t want to go with me.  Being tested as “gifted” at age 11 didn’t help matters much either. 

Kids can be cruel.  Food is always friendly.

Exercise makes me uncomfortable.  Always has, always will.  So even as a preteen, I avoided exercise when I could.  I loved riding my bike, though I didn’t really see that as “exercise.”  It was a means of freedom.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a great home life.  I just wanted to do what I wanted to do.  Maybe it’s because I was an only child.  Maybe it’s because it was the 70s.  Or maybe it was just me wanting to spread my wings.

Dad was in the Air Force and worked quite a bit.  Mom was (and still is) a church musician and choir director, and when I was in my early teens, she was also going to school at night.  Dad joined her at night classes for awhile, leaving me alone at home.  I’d make a pot of spaghetti (at least 2 servings worth), put parmesan on it, and I’d eat that while watching TV.  And this was AFTER dinner.  I think back to that and cringe.  I was obsessed with food, with feeling satisfied, with carbs.

Carbs, carbs, carbs… I’ve rarely met a carb I didn’t instantly bond with.  Cupcakes, cookies, chips, crackers… yum.  Just saltines and ice tea, a favorite snack.  Cake, bread, doughnuts, pastries, pasta.  <sigh>  I could go on and on, but I’m sure you get the picture.  Oh, I love fruit, too… a diet of fruit and bread would be my idea of heaven.  The hell with proteins… gimme carbs!!

So I can see it goes WAY back.  I don’t remember much about my diet before the age of 10 or so.  Does that mean that food wasn’t my focus before then?  I know I ate cereal.  I told my mom when I was 3 that I didn’t need a mom because I could get my own breakfast.  Yeah, she wasn’t happy to hear that either. 

Okay, enough meandering down memory lane.  Not an entirely bad experience on the lane today, but there’s still more delving to do later.

Enjoy your day, dear reader… I’m nearly done with my breakfast and the MT plate is, indeed, empty.  C’mon people… DICTATE already!  🙂

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