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!  🙂

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1 other follower