Small Slice

     I leaped onto the scale this morning, prepared to do a victory dance.  Granted, given the narrow width of my bathroom, it would be an awkward dance, but I anticipated seeing a loss, because I've been really cleaning up my act this week.  I pushed the button and waited while it showed me my last measurements: 43% body fat, people - I'm sure to survive any famines on the strength of my fat stores alone, and 179 pounds.  I stepped up, toes wiggling. 

     181 pounds.  Go me.

     Actually, though, this is my lovely week of bloating, so I'm staying off the scale for a few days. I'm not going to allow the disappointment of calling off my victory dance to keep me from working hard at this diet.  So, what exactly am I doing?  Let me explain why I'm following this diet, and how it is supposed to work:

     The whole idea is to eat three small but varied meals a day, made from food...real food, not packaged foods full of additives and preservatives.  By including healthy fats like olive oil and small amounts of cream and butter in my daily eating, my body should stay satisfied for longer, even with smaller portions.  Really, the smaller portions is the key for the weight loss.  Less food = less calories. 

    Say it with me:  Duuuuuuuh.  The problem here is that I'm really a quantity girl. I like a big heaping plate of pasta.  I like second helpings.  I have become accustomed to feeling uncomfortably full at the end of a meal, rather than satisfied.  Not only that, after seven straight years of trying to eat as quickly as possible, I can shovel food in like nobody's business.  I can get an entire meal in before someone needs me to leap up and fetch something or wipe something or any of the other somethings that come with small children. I eat so fast I don't give my body time to tell me I'm full, and I consistenly overeat.  It's really pretty disgusting, when I think about it. 

     Another idea behind this way of eating is to sit down at the table with your meals.  Take small bites.  Enjoy the flavor and texture.  Experience the food you are eating.  I have to admit, this seems like a big "Duh" point to make, but as I drove through crazy traffic with a soft pretzel from Target held in my teeth, I realized that not only wasn't I truly hungry, but I wasn't even tasting the food as I wolfed it down.  Last week, I found myself packing my cheeks with cereal as I gathered ingredients for dinner from the pantry.  I had both cheeks so full that I could barely close my lips, and I had another handful ready.  Why? 

     It seems that I'm a mindless grazer.  I eat without thought, without planning.  We eat a lot of fast food, because I'm always out of something, despite repeated trips to the store, and the thought of cooking at the end of a hectic day leaves me pouting like a spoiled toddler.  A quick run through the drive-thru, and I can get on with the rest of my evening.

     But here's a thought - I actually love to cook.  I'm a great cook, and I love to work with food.  I love to eat, too.  Why am I deliberately choosing garbage food over a simple, easily prepared meal at home?  I blame this squarely on the kids.  The hour before dinnertime is crazy around here.  The kids are in their witching hour, and I spend most of the time keeping them from hurling their siblings off the fort in the yard, or worse, tattling.  I just want to get them fed and get it over with.

     What are they learning from that attitude, though?  Certainly not appreciation for a good meal.  I'm determined to make mealtime a family affair, from the menu planning and shopping to the preparing and eating.  I want them to have an understanding of healthy food choices.  At seven, five and three, they are old enough to participate.  Now, if I can just get my control-freak kitchen attitude adjusted, I can envision them tossing salad, slicing berries and bananas, grating cheese...

    I can also envision myself cleaning up enthusiastically tossed lettuce from the floor, cleaning smashed berries off of the chairs, and having to bathe the entire trio before I can finish making dinner.  Whatever.  It might be better than having them out in the yard, stripped down to their underpants and standing onto of the play-fort while they yell at passing cars.  Not that that ever happens around here.  Ahem.

     I'll be doing my weekly grocery shopping tomorrow.  Shall I post my menu for the week, and a shopping list?  I think it might force me to actually have a plan, and inspire me to stick with it. 

     Also - I've decided that this whole exercise baloney would be a whole lot more fun if I had accomplices.  Leave me a comment with a suggested activity that you'd like to see me try.  As long as it doesn't involve jumping out of a plane, and I can do it locally, I'm game.  Bonus points if you come up with something that I can do WITH my kids.  I'll even take pictures and post them here, photo essay-style.  I've just discovered that I can rent exercise DVDs from Netflix, too, so recommend away, and I'll put 'em in my queue.