Small Slice

I'm struggling right now.  I've been struggling for a week, questioning, second-guessing, and full of self-pity.

I stepped on the scale, and I'm at 174 pounds.  I guess introducing breakfast daily isn't enough to make me magically lose weight. 

If I was in my right mind, I wouldn't have reached for the ice cream after dinner, which set me up for skipping breakfast the next morning, followed by an all-carb lunch, followed by a fast food dinner.

Three days later, I'm still off my game.  I'm fighting those "it doesn't matter" voices in my head, and I'm overthinking everything, looking for shortcuts to get me back on track.  But I don't need shortcuts.  I just need to go back to what works.

The thought of journaling is making me crazy.  Seriously crazy.  It brings out the overthinking control freak in me, and I am not enjoying eating, not enjoying cooking, not enjoying anticipating or planning for upcoming meals.

I think trying to wrap myself around the whole "whole grain, lean protein, veggies" idea has me feeling rather blah about food.  Instead of enjoying the nutty flavors, the fresh tastes, the bright colors, I've been focusing on what I am not supposed to eat.

I need to get a grip.  It isn't like ice cream is leaving the planet. 

I apologize for this rambling - I know it isn't inspiring or motivating to listen to me whine about how I can't get my head to think right about this lifestyle change.  I'm thinking more and more that I really need to do that Fat Fallacy program in March (I should see if I can still register) and get some help in changing this pigheaded attitude I have.

In other news, I'm exercising daily, and will be riding horses at least once a week.  Real ones, even, not just my pretend horsie. I have to believe that all these puzzle pieces are going to start clicking together at some point.  I have to believe it, or I'm going face down in another vat of ice cream.

Posted by Jenny at 5:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Via Sweetney.com - check out this great article!

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My friend Elise and I are often on the same page in our life stories.  We met through mutual friends during our single and broke days.  We met our husbands around the same time, followed one another down the aisle to wedded bliss (and blisters) and have children that are around the same ages.  We don't get the chance to see each other often, but we still have lengthy phone calls weekly.

It didn't surprise me in the least when Elise called and told me she'd been rummaging through some old boxes while putting away her Christmas decorations, and turned up some old photos of herself from her super-sassy late teens.  We laughed about how we used to be smokin' hot, and my how life has altered our abs and asses, our faces and our fantasies.  After a big, mutual sigh, Elise said something that made me start spinning.

"I wish someone, I don't know, like my mom or my aunt, someone would have told me to protect that body, to work hard to keep it strong and fit and not just surrender it for the comfort of Cheetos after a bad day. I wish someone had told me that I had a freaking six-pack, and that abs like that require maintenance.  I wish someone had told me then that the other side of thirty-five isn't a pretty place to be if you haven't worked out all along.  Shouldn't my mom have told me that?  Shouldn't someone have?"

Right away, I started weighing my own situation against Elise's.  I mean, I never had a six-pack to begin with, and I always thought I was fat, even when I wasn't.  So maybe if someone had said to me: "Jenny, you've got a great body, and if you want to keep it looking great, you're going to have to work at it your whole life long."  I might have laughed.  Or blown it off.  Or maybe I would have thought that they really thought I was fat, and they were trying to tell me I needed to work out more.

Because I was like that, you know...suspicious about compliments about my physical shape. I didn't understand when I overheard my mom saying that I was built like "a brick shithouse" that it was a compliment.  I thought it was another way to say "fat" and it wasn't until years later that I figured it out.

By then I was mighty mighty and letting it all hang out.  But that is a whole 'nother tale.

When I had my first daughter, I vowed to never make her physical appearance an issue.  I didn't want physical beauty to be tied to her self-worth.  And yet, she's a beautiful girl, and already her looks are attracting attention.  She's physically active and strong, and with puberty only a couple of years away, I'm beginning to see the changing lines of her shape.  Hips are rounding, her waist is curving...what do I tell her about the years ahead? 

On one hand, I feel like encouraging all my children to be active and establishing some healthy eating habits will be good enough.  But with girls - there is so much interest and conversation that revolves around being beautiful and thin and all that.  It is ever-present, and since I'm opting not to confine my children to the family compound for the duration, they will be exposed to society's ideals. 

We already talk about how your heart, your intelligence, your creativity and your passion are so much more important than your physical appearance.  But if we minimize the beauty part, am I setting them up for an ambivalent relationship with their body like my own?  If I don't tell them that gravity and age and pregnancy and partying and lack of exercise will haul their bodies in unflattering directions, will they just assume that I became fat by magic? 

But if I tell them that diet and exercise are the keys to eternal youth and happiness, and yet they still get stretch marks and gray hairs before their 30th birthday, or have acne, or any of the other scenarios that might screw with their physical expectations, will I have lied to them?  Will I somehow twist the message into a "beauty first" reality?

Elise also told me about running into an acquaintance at a party.  This woman is svelte and always has been.  She told Elise that she's on the South Beach diet, and Elise was flabbergasted.

"She's so thin and perfect already!  But she said that it was all about the maintenance.  And I thought, 'Wow!  Here I thought that you dieted until you got skinny, and then you celebrated by wearing smaller clothes for a few months while you ate yourself back up to the weight you were before you dieted!'"

I laughed.  And I cringed.  There have been so many minor dieting successes that I've immediately celebrated with dessert.  There have been so many victories where I planted my flag in the center of Thinville, and immediately headed for the local tavern for some ale and snackies.  Elise and I talked about how we just don't have the kind of personality that makes maintaining a priority.  We're addicted to the ups and downs, and maintaining seems like punishment.  Why continue to eat moderately if you've reached your goal? 

Maybe I need to stop worrying about what to tell my daughter, and focus on setting a good example instead. 

Posted by Jenny at 7:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

So, I recently got a book to review in the mail.  Michael Thurmond's 12 day Body Shaping Miracle is actually a really cool, complete resource - I've posted a full review over at threekidcircus.com/auditions.

Anyway...

I read through this book, and the author recommends taking three full-length photos of yourself (front, side and back) in a bathing suit, printing them out in 8x10 size and then marking them up with a pen to take note of hunched shoulders, sagging butt, protruding stomach...in short, all your visible flaws.  This is so you see what you want to work on, and can measure your progress over the course of your program.

Oh, the HORROR.  I know that I would rather, like, NEVER see my backside straight on, and the thought of contemplating bathing suit photos is so...well.  Yes.

Okay.  (Deep cleansing breath)

Did I mention that I'll be attending my brother's wedding in February.  In Hawaii?  And that a swimsuit will be packed and worn?  Because hello, HAWAII?  In 2 1/2 weeks? 

Hee hee hee, hoo hoo hoo, hee hee hee - does anyone have a paper bag? 

So, yesterday, I spun around and contemplated my butt in the mirror after showering.  Although I can feel the muscles under the fat, the fat is still there, and it is actually dimpled.  I have cellulite on my butt.  Craters which could be named after Roman gods.  It looks like I was caught in the tail of a comet, and peppered with small chunks of space debris.  It looks like the surface of the moon. 

Oh my GOD.

So, yeah.  I'm going to take the bathing suit photos today, and then I'm going to be brave and honest and while I'm not going to post them here (yet) I am going to face down my back-fat and my  dimpled butt and my rounded shoulders.  I'm going to address specific problem areas (jiggle jiggle) and pursue some specific goals for my next set of photos.

I'm also going to be shopping for a skirted suit.  Heh.  Maybe a bathing cap with plastic flowers on it and a little chin strap, too. 

I often joke about how BigSlice is one long conversation about my big fat butt, but I think I've outdone myself with this entry.  Hah!

Posted by Jenny at 9:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

I just got back from a great 2 mile walk to the school.  Actually, it was more of a power walk.  Normally, we leave the house at 7:45, and arrive at the school around 8:05.  That is a 20 minute mile, right?  So brisk, but not deadly. 

Today we left at 7:55.  And we arrived?  8:05.  That's a 10 minute mile, baby, and it was not too bad.  The kids and I ran in spurts (me pushing the stroller with my 30 pound four-year-old and wearing two backpacks and holding the dog on the leash) and walked briskly the rest of the time, and we made it.

Woooo!  I walked back at my normal pace, leaving at 8:10 and arriving home at 8:25, so all in all, two miles at good speed.  I'm all peppy from the endorphins.

So!  Here's my challenge to you:  I've gotten comments from several folks bemoaning the fact that they live in the sticks and have to drive long distances to get to any destination.  Here's what I want you to think about:  there is no law that says you have to drive all the way to your destination.  For example - if you live in an outlying area, and you have to drive your kids to school 15 minutes away, leave 20 minutes early, and park about a mile from the school.  Unload everyone and walk the rest of the way.  You'll avoid waiting in the carpool drop-off line, and by the time you get back to your car, you will have gotten a nice walk.

If the route to school is unsafe for walking, then plan a walking route that will take you to several errand stops.  Park at the first location, and make a loop from the bank to the post office to Target and back. 

Look, I am one of the laziest people on the planet, and I have a weird perfection complex about exercise.  I have told myself for years that if I can't have a sustained 60 minutes of walking, it isn't worth trying.  I have used the excuse that I don't have time to walk to do errands, even though the time it takes to find parking, and then move the car five times in the space of a mile is the same time it would take to just walk.   Unless I need to purchase a large item (in which case, I should park my car there) I generally can carry all my stuff in a small backpack or in pockets. 

Mostly, I have considered exercise to be an extracurricular activity.  Something that you make time for outside of your daily routine.  You have to wear the right shoes, the right clothes.  You have to be undisturbed.  You have to get in the zone.  Guess what?  No you don't. 

People that live in urban areas often don't have cars.  They walk to and from, and they are wearing *gasp* street clothes.  They aren't in coordinated jogging suits to cover a single mile.  They don't have to be in the zone.  They are just getting from point A to point B and back again.  If they are late, they hurry.  If not, they can take in the sights and sounds. 

So that is your challenge.  Find a way to get from point A to point B on foot without making a big damn production about it.  You can wear your workout clothes, of course, but today I walked the kids to school in my riding boots and jeans.  I even wore makeup!

And if I can do it, you certainly can.  No excuses.  Set a measurable goal for yourself (I will walk 10 miles this week) and choose a reward to work towards (I will invest in a new pair of sunglasses.)

Go! Go! Go!   

Posted by Jenny at 9:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

It dawned on me this weekend that I'm no longer even thinking about eating breakfast.  I'm just doing it.  I wake up ready to eat.  Victory!

The journaling continues to be a struggle - mostly because my meal planning has gone awry again.  I just haven't had time/motivation/whatever and I believe that I am probably not balancing my meals very well.  I'm going to make consistant meal plans and journaling the focus for the next few weeks.

It also dawned on me this weekend that I need to get more exercise.  Plain and simple.  I've been good with lifting weights, riding the iGallop (haaaa! heeee!  hooooo!) and jumping on the trampoline, but the reality for me is that I need a lot of walking as well.  Trying to carve the hour or so out of my day to get a long walk is tough.  So tough that I haven't been doing it. 

It struck me as I was dashing out the door to the van for the five minute drive to school last week - I used to walk the kids to school every day.  And with all the time I've been spending thawing the windows, warming the car, loading the kids... seriously, walking them to school takes the same amount of time as driving.  I leave the house at 7:45 and I'm home by 8:20.  It is a mile each way. 

So yesterday, I tied on my shoes, put the leash on the dog, and pushed the stroller just in case, and my four-year-old and I walked the two older kids to school.  By five minutes into the walk, my heart felt light, my head cleared, and I felt like my day was off to a good start.  When I got home, I had so much energy, and as an added bonus, my four-year-old went off to preschool while I had a conference call with Steve Case.   She was worn out after walking two miles, and having school, and I got the first nap out of her I've had in a month.  Wooo!

While rehashing the call with a friend, I found myself rummaging in the pantry.  Snacking while on the phone, while pretty damn rude, is also a habit of mine.  I've been known to consume large portions of food while gabbing, and I forced myself to leave the kitchen while I talked.  Afterwards, I realized that I hadn't been hungry at all, and celebrated with a cup of herbal tea.

Baby steps, I know.

Posted by Jenny at 7:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

It happened again this weekend... I grocery shopped for a selection of healthy, nutritious foods.  My husband stopped at the store on his way home, and came in with two giant bags of dog-crap foods.

Brownies.  Ice cream.  Potato chips.  Soda. 

I didn't eat any of it, which is good (yay me!) but the fact that he is undermining my efforts is pissing me off royal.  He doesn't see it that way, of course, but today, as he lamented his expanding waistline and lack of motivation, I seized upon the chance to deliver a little lecture.

I've had it with feeding the kids carefully, only to have Daddy come home with lollypops in his pocket.  I'm tired of making a lovely, balanced dinner only to be informed that he ate a late lunch and isn't hungry.  Invariably he ends up skipping dinner and snacking on dog-crap all evening after the kids go to bed.

Even more than that, I'm tired of being the only one setting a healthy example.  He agrees that his inactive lifestyle is setting an example he's not thrilled with.  So!

Starting tomorrow, every member of my family is going to do sit ups and push ups.  We're going to start with 10 of each.  Before showers in the morning, before baths in the evening - we're going to squeeze in those little exercises - all of us. 

The kids are already adding exercises - jumping rope, lifting weights, jogging in place...

I think we'll make up some random selection device, and we'll pick two activities each day.  Anyone have any silly suggestions?

Posted by Jenny at 4:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

So, I reveal my secret exercise equipment, and then stop posting for a few days... you guys must be wondering if the iGallop is THAT good.

The jury is still out.  I'll update my impressions after a month of use, so I'll have something more intelligent to say.

Today is grocery shopping day - and I have to say that without a menu plan, my attempts to shop wisely have resulted in a collection of complex grains and frozen chicken breasts and a giant bag of onions.  I need to plan my menus.  Period. 

Last week I went to the store with a few rough ideas, and ended up buying lots of snack-type carbs - cookies, crackers and not a whole lot that I could make actual meals from.  My family descended on the pantry like locusts, and a mere three days after shopping, we were out of everything again.  This is why I need to plan.  I need to plan for afterschool snacks, too.  Aaargh!

I'm a huge procrastinator and I hate planning.  I hate sitting down and writing lists, and making plans and then actually following through with my plan.  Half the time, the food I've planned for isn't something I want to cook or eat when it comes right down to it.  Again, let me just say: Aaaaargh!

But, in an effort to stop the negative self-talk, I am going to embrace my creative nature and purchase ingredients that I know we all enjoy, and that I can play with a little bit.  But that means planning, too. 

Okay - I'm taking the wee one to preschool, and then I'm home to spend a half an hour planning meals.  I'll post the results as soon as I'm done.  Feel free to bug me until it is done.  I'm going to get past this flaky thing if it kills me.

Posted by Jenny at 8:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

Are you all ready to mock me?  Are you?

Guess what I have sitting in my living room?  Guess what I have been faithfully straddling and riding for two weeks?  Guess what is responsible for my abs, butt and inner thighs hurting like a ^%$&@!!!?

I got me a iGallop.  (And no, I didn't pay full price for it - I had promo codes etc)

It is so freaking funny.  I think it has got to be ranked up there as one of the world's stupidest exercise concepts, but so far, it is really targeting the areas on my body where I'm carrying the most flab, and I can simulaneously watch What Not To Wear while exercising because it is very quiet.

Besides, it is hilarious, which gets high marks from me.  And sort of pornographic, which gets high marks from my husband. 

And the exercise DVD that comes with it?  Haaaaa!  First of all, I am not yet strong enough to do the balancing moves they suggest, but the woman who is demonstrating the moves is grim.  She doesn't crack a smile, and she appears to be working very hard to stay on the machine and I was all "Yes!  This hurts!  She's not perky! Finally, the truth exposed!  Exercise done well makes people grim!"

(I jest.  But I love that she is not happy one bit for the entire DVD.)

Anyway, I'm off to do some upper body exercises with my weights, and then have a little ride right now.  And then I'm going to jog on the trampoline, too.   And you can bet that I'll be grinning from ear to ear. 

In case anyone was wondering, the kids love it, too.  And they are way stronger than I am.

Posted by Jenny at 9:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBacks (0)

On Saturday, I ate without thinking.  I had breakfast as usual, but I popped a meringue cookie in my mouth while I was in the pantry for something else.  I bought the package of cookies as a special treat for the kids - they've been very cranky since I've started this whole grain, veggies, lean protein business.  Little Sugar Addicts reaffirmed that I need to ease them off of sugars - and besides, I figured a cookie with an otherwise healthy lunch isn't a problem.  So, I had a cookie.  Then I had a cup of hot chocolate, since I was making some for the kids anyway, and another cookie.  The day went downhill from there, eating-wise.  And my mood went south as well.

On Sunday, I was lethargic and irritable.  I went back to my whole grains and lean proteins and veggies, but I felt horrible all day.  Even this morning, the sugar hangover lingers.

Why do I do these things to myself?  I guess I just have to test the waters and convince myself beyond a doubt that I need to make this change.

The Amazing Shrinking Mel says: "...because, seriously, no cookie is worth being fat forever."  When I first read that, I'll admit that I smirked and thought "because, seriously, one cookie isn't the problem."

But you know what?  If I hadn't had that one meringue cookie, I doubt the cravings for sugar would have taken over and made me into an eating machine.  It was that one cookie that flipped my sweet switch, and I spent all day trying to eat something that would satisfy my craving.  I never found it, and I made myself ill with all the extra food I ate.

I've been avoiding the scale since before Christmas.  I suspect that I'm up a few pounds again - but I'm okay with that for the time being.  I've established a breakfast habit, and I'm becoming very aware how my body responds to different foods.  I know what I want to eat, and how I want to eat, and when I want to eat.  The difficult part is getting past that feeling that happiness can be found in sweet foods.  That a job well done needs a little treat to celebrate. 

Most of all, there's the over-riding desire to be done with this struggle already.  To already be done with sugary foods.  To already seek comfort from healthy habits instead of cookies.  And that, my friends, is why I keep failing.  Because I want to believe that two weeks of trying equals success. 

But two weeks of trying, crowned by two days of spectacular failure means that I'm still going to have to struggle.  Then I start projecting forward.  I'm going to have to try EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.  And then I freak out and start heading toward the pantry.

I can't think that far ahead.  I have to focus on one choice at a time.  One bite at a time. And instead of throwing up my hands after this weekend's wreckage, I'm learning.  I journaled my emotions, and I can reference those foods and those emotions.  I can make those connections.  And I can plan ahead.  Stop laughing.  I can, too.

I'm being called away by my children.  I'll post my menu for this week when and if I can get the kids to settle the hell down.

Posted by Jenny at 10:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Do you remember that show?  With the Solid Gold Dancers?  Oh, how I wanted to be a Solid Gold Dancer.  I regularly enthrall/horrify my children with my interpretive dances.  Imagine my glee when I find out that I can now do this in public!  Go check out my review of Baby Loves Disco - and then let me know if you are going.  I personally can't wait to get out there.

This week the kids are back in school, and while my resolve to eat breakfast daily is going strong, I didn't plan menus far enough ahead, and I've found myself rather lost in the kitchen.  I'm not eating garbage, but I'm just not eating with any sort of plan, and it is making me crazy.

I've been running around all week, hardly at home, and the groceries I bought aren't adding up to meals like I had hoped.  It seems my imagination has been stuck in the off-mode while I ponder a life of whole grains, veggies and lean protein.  I haven't been able to envision exciting meals. 

When in doubt, whip out the cookbooks.  I've just purchased a copy of The Sonoma Diet Cookbook, and The Vegetarian Table - France.  Both are reminding me that I don't have to eat gruel, leaves and twigs.  In particular, I'm enthralled by the recipes in The Vegetarian Table - France.  It's authored by Georgeanne Brennan, and features gorgeous photos by John Vaughan.  I'm going to make up a new menu for the coming week, and I'll share some of these recipes as I go.

I feel as though I'm solid on the breakfast thing, so I'm going to add journaling to my goals.  Not only will I record what I'm eating, but I'll record how I'm feeling.  I can say without a doubt that my body is responding well to meals without sugars.  The other task for this next phase is to have a scheduled meal plan that will allow me time to linger over my food.  No television, no telephone, no computer, no wandering around the house.  I will sit and eat.

For me:  Breakfast at 7 am, with the kids.  Lunch at 11:45 am, with my youngest.  Dinner at 6 pm, with my children, and hopefully my husband.

Posted by Jenny at 9:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

During dinner, the older kids and I ate while my youngest chattered away.  She picked at her dinner - brown rice, chicken breast, green beans, kidney beans, corn and carrots with sliced apples.  The older kids and I finished and left the table, and still my youngest stayed at the table, picking at her food.  I left her there for a few minutes, and set my daughter up with her homework at the other end of the table.

The dryer buzzer went off, and I went to switch loads.  As I pulled open the lid of the washer, my four-year-old shot past me, feet pattering down the hall.  She skidded around the corner into the bathroom, and leaped up onto the toilet.

I joined her in the bathroom.  "What are you doing?"  She was staring at her face in the mirror, and then she turned to me and said "Don't you see my sparkles?"

I bluffed.  "Oh yes, there they are."

She beamed at me.  "I just ate a carrot, and I'm so sparkly now.  Look at my eyes!"

I encouraged her to return to the table and eat another carrot.  She leaped down from the toilet and sped into the kitchen.  I shot a questioning look at my oldest daughter, and she grinned. 

"See, I told you.  Carrots make your eyes sparkle!" 

My youngest couldn't wait to finish each and every carrot on her plate.  I provided a small hand mirror to save her from dashing the length of the house after each bite.

Posted by Jenny at 8:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Or, how to shop at a major grocery store and find next to nothing you want to buy.

Last night, I was irritated beyond reason with my family and decided that a solo grocery store trip was in order.  They could all make each other crazy, and I could read labels in peace.  I might have been peaceful starting out, but I got all riled up by the time I finished navigating the stores. 

"Whole wheat!" claims a label, until you look at the ingredients, and sure, it has wheat flour as the number one ingredient, but the second is corn syrup.  I looked at no less than 10 brands of bread that had no fiber to speak of.  I imagine I was huffing and puffing and looking indignant as I tried to find lunch snacks for the kids.  The dazzling variety of packages and logos and cartoon characters and buy one get one free deals... it is enough to turn a gal's head.  But the reality is that 99% of what was on sale, or individually packaged, or labeled with healthy catch-phrases was all stuff that was loaded with sugars, bleached flours, and scary additives.

This is why I loves me some Trader Joes - although even there you have to read labels.  Anyway.

I ended up with some 100% Whole Wheat bread, some unsweetened applesauces, some yo-baby yogurts, whole grain pretzels, havarti cheese and sliced turkey, eggs (I hard boil them a dozen at a time) and fresh blueberries. This compliments my stash of natural peanut butter, baby carrots, Wasa flatbreads, green olives, avocados, apples, broccoli and celery.

I would hate being my kid in the cafeteria.  I hope that they actually eat the lunches they helped pack for themselves.  They were really excited about the food they packed, but it's not gleaming in foil wrappers or emblazoned with SpongeBob Squarepants.  I hope they don't just mooch food off of their friends and come home starving and strung out.

The good news is that we are all starting to recognize our shifting moods in relation to the foods we are eating.  I've been sticking pretty closely to whole grain stuff, but the kids have had a few sugary treats and without fail, they've become very emotional, super high and then have crashed hard.  Instead of feeding them more sugary stuff, I've been offering hard boiled eggs, a spoon of peanut butter, a few triscuits with cheese... and they are eating it.  Even better, they are commenting on how much better they feel.

It is a small step, for sure, but a step in the right direction.

Posted by Jenny at 9:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

So, wow.  I was sort of zonked out for a day following all that emotional well-spring action, and now that I've had a chance to let things settle down, I've been trying to decide what to do about all these demons of mine.  I'd love to be able to throw myself into full-speed-ahead demon banishment, but that isn't who I am.  At least, that isn't the speed I need to go for long-term success.  That's my newest theory.  Slow and Steady.  Because apparently, that is what my body has been trying to tell me all along.

So, I'm having breakfast, every morning.  While there are some mornings when I am not hungry, by the time I finish making whatever it is, I'm usually happy to eat.  And it has really made a huge difference in how my mornings go.  I'm energetic, but not hyper (like coffee alone) and I'm not snacking unless (and this is the problem) I'm in the kitchen and doling out snacks to the kids.

I had a day from hell where the kids were all up in my grill, wanting tidbits all day, and I wanted to weep.  And shoot them over the state line with a catapult.  I don't know what happened to my spine, but I was acting like a short order cook, and then it dawned on me that 1) I don't have to and 2) I won't do that anymore.

So, tonight I'm sitting down with the kids, and we're going to come up with five possible breakfasts, five possible lunches, and then I'll worry about dinners.  I'm sick and tired of trying to cook inventive meals when every single member of my family is happy with simple, and familiar meals.  Once the kids and I get it hammered out, I'll share it here.

I was already grumbling and pouting when I picked up a copy of The Sonoma Diet.  I wanted to see if they had good recipes, since I knew that the diet was supposed to be whole grain, veggies, lean protein, fruit.  And, since I live in Sonoma County, CA, I figured that I was at least obligated to give it a look-see, right? 

The diet itself seems like a good option, although I don't like the use of artificial sweeteners and the non-fat dairy.  I understand why those items are options for the diet, but those items don't match up with a natural, unprocessed eating style.  This is nitpicking, and if you are looking for specific rules to follow, and portion-sizes and shopping lists and the whole kit and kaboodle spelled out for you, it is really an understandable, sound option. 

As far as the recipes go, they look great - lots of fresh veggies and herbs, colorful dishes with wonderful sauces and marinades.  The suggested menus sound amazing, too.  But I thought to myself, "Come on.  Like you are really going to make something different for every single meal for weeks on end."

Then I picked up my new copy of Dr. Clower's The French Don't Diet Plan, and flipped randomly to a page and read:

"Aren't standard diet book meal plans hopeless?  They tell you to eat specific foods on specific days and at specific times, with some stunning new creation every day.  The following breakfast meal plan actually came straight out of one popular diet book.  I want you to imagine yourself actually doing this for even one week.

Mon: Peach quick bread, fresh raspberries; Tue: Blueberry muffin with lemon glaze, cantaloupe wedge; Wed: Yogurt layered with granola, fruit and coconut; Thurs: Cereal bar, yogurt topped with blueberries; Fri: Mini-bagel with jam and reduced fat cream cheese, yogurt with sliced peach; Sat: Vegetable frittata wedge, wheat toast, blueberries; Sun: Pancakes with light syrup, sliced strawberries.

And this was just breakfast!  It sounds great in theory, but no one with a life can do it, which makes the point perfectly: overmanaging your schedule and expectations sets you up for one big dietary downfall." (The French Don't Diet Plan, page 241)

So, yeah.  I'm guilty of overthinking, overplanning, overshopping, and overeating when all I really need and want is a few choices.  I have been buying into the whole idea that if my weekly dinners were too similar, I was dieting wrong.  If I didn't touch on multiple ethnicities in my weekly meals, I was going to bore my family (and you guys, too.)  Duh, me.  Settle down.  Pick a handful of favorites, and rotate.  Add a new dish here and there, but stop obsessing on it.

That, and I've been really hung up on breakfast.  Breakfast food should be breakfast food, right?  Like eggs and cereal, and um, eggs and what the heck else is there?  Fruit?  Potatoes? Pancakes?  And eggs? 

So I've decided that I'm not limiting myself to breakfast foods at breakfast time anymore.  If I have leftovers from dinner that sound good, I'm eating that.  If I want to eat a green salad with chicken for breakfast, I will.  And no one is going to report me to anyone if I make fried rice or steamed broccoli or naan and garbanzo bean masala or anything else.

Wooo! Take that, planned diets!  I'm sticking it to The Man. 

Posted by Jenny at 3:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Denise (again) makes a very good point by mentioning my silence on the emotional issues that have helped hoist my chubby little fist full of snackies. I'm going to take a stab at revealing some of the emotional issues I have, and the way they have twisted my relationship to food.

Demon #6 - Recognition and Appreciation
Food has long been a way to reward myself.  From my earliest years:
"Finish your dinner, and you can have a popsicle." 
"Get good grades, and we'll go out for ice cream!"
Let's not forget the Starving Children in China argument.  I'm making it sound like my parents were plying us with sweet rewards daily.  This isn't the case at all.  But times of celebration, large and small, generally called for something yummy. 

In my adult life, a job well done has always been marked by a little something edible. As an office worker, a balanced ledger meant it was time for a visit to the vending machines.  As a new mommy, every breastfeeding session 'earned' a little treat. The thankless day-to-day grind of dirty diaper and dirty laundry and dirty dishes was sweetened by a little "thank you, Jenny!" in the form of a Pumpkin Spice Latte, or a handful of cookies.  This last year has brought me major improvement on that front.  No longer do I 'celebrate' each folded load of laundry with a fun-sized Snickers (or three) from a hidden stash.  No longer do I 'celebrate' the end of the day by polishing off a pint of Ben & Jerry's. 

However, the snacking urge remains.  I believe that there are several complicated emotional triggers behind this.  My need for appreciation and recognition is abated and soothed by chocolate and sweets.  I realize that I cannot continue to feed this need with food - but I am not sure how to fill the hole.  At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful wretch, I will admit that I find many of my hausfrau duties to be completely mundane.  Not only that, but I'm not particularly good at them.  Which brings me to Demon #7.

Demon #7 - I'm Not Worthy
For a woman with self-esteem to spare, I have to wonder how much of my self-acceptance is actually resignation, and how much is genuine.  I've skated through life as the rather undistinguished middle child in a family of ambitious dreamers.  With only 18 months separating my older sister and I, my identity has always been tied to hers, and early on, I set out to distinguish myself from her many accomplishments.  On meeting friends of my parents for the first time:

"Are you the pianist?"
"No, that's my sister."
"Are you the singer?"
"Also my sister."
"You must be the one that is great with languages!"
"Nope, my sister is really great at French and Spanish, though."
"Oh.  Well, what do YOU do?"

What I did was the bare minimum.  I liked flying under the radar, free to read and doodle and play music half-assed.  I was free of the spotlight, and it was great.  I didn't have the same expectations placed on me as my sister, and I have never (conciously) begrudged her a moment of glory.  Because she works damn hard for everything she has attained - much harder than I've ever worked in my entire life.  Except maybe giving birth, and that was mostly involuntary.  And with good drugs.

I have never felt less-than.  I'm pretty, funny, warm, intuitive, and modest.  (Hah!) But I also feel like I hide behind my averageness.  I'm used to having other people standing in the spotlight.  I'm a natural comedic sidekick.  I don't have to be the wittiest or the prettiest.  I don't have to be the thin one, because no one is looking at me, anyway.   

After the birth of my first child, I noticed that people stopped looking at me and talking to me.  I became a mom and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I was happy to sink into that anonymous role.  But as the years have passed, I've allowed that whole "no one notices me, anyway" mentality to make it okay to be fat.  I'm still pretty, funny, warm, intuitive (and modest) and I'm still fat. 

The thing is, I am often out and about with no kids now.  People look me in the eye, and I wonder what they see when they look at me.  In my single, dancing at the club, size 4 wearing days, I loved to flirt and be noticed.  It was one of the first times in my life that people were meeting me without knowing my siblings first, and I started to enjoy the spotlight.  I still get smiles and friendly conversation from strangers, but I'm once again uncomfortable with extra attention. 

I'm a fat, average mommy, and I'd rather not showcase that.  In fact, I rather just sit over here and have a bowl of ice cream while congratulating myself on getting through another day without attracting scrutiny.

Demon #8 - Commitment
If I were to trace one common thread through my life's successes and failures, it would be my level of commitment to the project at hand that tipped the scales.   I've spent my life "accepting" negative labels as my own - lazy, messy, disorganized, fat.  If I own it, I can't be hurt by it, right?  And if I set out to accomplish something, and end up failing, it is because of my nature, my own self-defined limitations.  I can't keep an orderly home because I'm messy at heart.  I can't work out daily, because I'm lazy.  I can't lose weight, because I'm not willing to work hard at it.  I can't lose weight because all my female relatives (except my sister and one aunt) are fat.  I can't lose weight because I don't want to have to look in the mirror and start a dialog that will disrupt my armor-plated self-esteem.  I don't want to feel shame and anger and guilt. 

Oh wait.  I already do. 

I am ashamed that I cannot just make the decision to change my life, and then do it.  I'm angry that I fail.  I'm feeling guilt over my repeated declarations: "This is it!  Never again!  I'm not doing that anymore!" which are always followed by a frantic search for the next big idea that will justify whatever behavior I've failed to change.

I have to find a way to stop defining myself with negative labels.  I have to give myself room to grow and develop new habits, without preconceived notions about how my lazy, messy, disorganized, fat self will quit, so why even try?

This is why Kathleen DesMaisons and her Little Sugar Addicts book made me sit up and take notice. 

The Myth of "Just Say No"

"Contrary to what some folks say, "Just say no" does not work with addiction.  The people who can successfully just say no are those who have a different biochemistry than you or your children.  They do not experience withdrawal, they do not have cravings, they do not have an emotional attachment to what they eat in the same way you do.  They are not sugar sensitive.  They are the same people who will tell you to "just take your children off of sugar."  At best this message is a functional instruction.  At worst, it carries an implicit condemnation of your parenting skills.  That message of "why don't you just..." is very pervasive in our culture.

That message is at the root of your shame.  If it were that simple, you would have stopped the sugar long ago.  I am taking you through a process that will heal your addiction, not break it."  (Little Sugar Addicts, pg 49-50)

These are the larger demons I want to conquer this year.  There are many others - but they all wind together, forming a sticky ball of frustration.  Finding a way to heal my addiction to sugar, finding balance in my eating habits and redefining my relationship with food and exercise is going to be a long-drawn out process. 

One choice at a time. 

Posted by Jenny at 9:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)

I've been humbled this last year by my utter inability to shed pounds.  I've read articles and books, digested theories and made plans.  I've been angry, motivated, ambivelent and defiant.  I've used food as a punishment and as a reward.  I've "tried" lots of ideas, tested theory after theory.

And I'm still fat.

This year, I'm determined to get to the bottom of my body's refusal to let go of the weight.  And I think I'm finally onto the demons that have been plaguing me.

Demon #1 - Awareness
As much as I love to eat, I don't want to think about it.  I don't want to plan it, I don't want to anticipate my next meal, I don't want to balance my meals and I certainly don't want to journal every damn bite that crosses my lips.  This goes hand and hand with Demon #2, by the way.

Demon #2 - Honesty
I don't want to admit that sometimes I eat a handful of chocolate chips, or drink a second cup of coffee, or put an extra slice of cheese in my mouth.  I don't want to count that glass of juice I drank.  In fact, I don't want to have to be accountable at all.  I just want to eat what I want to eat, and magically lose weight.  Without revealing that I'm not as "good" at dieting as I want to believe.

Demon #3 - Eating Habits
Over the last few months, I've gradually slipped back into snacking mode.  While I agree that for many people, five small meals a day makes more sense, for me, five small meals becomes constant grazing.  I literally wander around with food in my hand all day long.  Instead of sitting at the table and eating at a sedate pace, I stand in front of the pantry or the fridge, downing a few crackers, a string cheese, a little bit of this and that.  My snacks add up to well over 500 calories a day, when I'm being honest and aware about it.  Not only that, but most of the time, I snack without thought, and without enjoyment.  My snacking has become a habit that continues even when I'm not hungry.  99% of the time, the snack is in my mouth before I've even closed the cupboard.  I need to eat three balanced meals a day - which means planning ahead, shopping smart, allowing time for cooking and eating and writing it all down.

Demon #4 - Food Choices
I'm making good choices, generally speaking.  But I tend to go heavy on the "white" flour items, and heavy on the whole-fat dairy, and skimp on lean proteins.  I always need more fruits and veggies.  Always.  And that requires planning, because really, I'm totally satisfied by a bowl of pasta with red sauce.  Who needs a salad?  (Hint: me.)  And again - the snacks add a lot of low-gratification, mindless calories.  I need to put food on my plate and appreciate each bite.  And I need to drink  more water.

Demon #5 - Conflicting Advice
Count calories.  Don't count calories.  Fat is bad.  Fat is good.  No carbs.  Good carbs.  Red meat!  No red meat.  Sugar bad!  Sugar fine. 

Here's the deal:  I'm a sucker for a persuasive argument.  And like many dieters, I want to believe that I've finally discovered The Magic Answer to all my woes.  You tell me that cabbage is the answer to my prayers, I'll try it.  I draw the line at diet drugs, and I'm done with crazy eating.  That said, however, I am working on eliminating refined sugars and flours from my diet.  One meal, one choice at a time.  Not because I believe it will make me magically thin, but because I believe it will correct some of my impulsive behaviors, and improve the health of my entire family.

So, where to start?

At the beginning.  One demon at a time.  One day, one meal, one choice.  I need to start again.

Posted by Jenny at 6:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Happy New Year!  I'm happy to report although my FitDay journal has not been updated, I've been eating a healthy breakfast and lunch every day!  Dinners have been more challenging for me this week - we ate out at Chili's on Saturday night (I ate about 1/4 of an awesome blossom and had a giant margarita, then wasn't able to finish my lettuce wraps (with some sort of asian chicken).  Sunday night, we were without the kids, so we headed out to my favorite Thai restaurant.

I don't know what it is about this place, but they have been amazing every. single. time.  Of course, I don't vary my orders much.  This woman right here knows what she likes.  And what I like is mostly deep-friend vegetarian balls with tangy, sweet, spicy dipping sauces.  Things like tarot root and mung beans and yellow lentils and tofu.  Chop that stuff up, make it into a ball, fry it, and gimme some sauce with it.  I'm good to go.

I also love the salad rolls, and recently have been all about Meing Kam (which I've seen spelled 500 ways.)  It is a wonderfully flavorful appetizer, and something that although I've heard it is time consuming (and I know where to go get it if I want someone to make it for me) I would love to try to make at home. 

I posted a link over at Three Kid Circus to a site that has what looks to be a great recipe.  Even though I felt really full last night, in retrospect, I didn't overeat to the degree that I normally would have.  And the food itself was fresh, healthy and worth every bite.  I ate slowly, and lingered over each new dish, and really, that's a victory.

I'll be posting this week's dinner menu tomorrow - Monday just got away from me this week.

I'll also be talking about my own personal food demons - since Denise of Fast Times @ Homeschool High called me out in my last entry's comments.  She doesn't really know what those demons are - and frankly, I'm thinking it is about time that I figure it out, myself.

Posted by Jenny at 9:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)