… kids come over just because they want junk food (I used to be famous that way), and freak out when I tell them I don’t really have any around (can anyone say “fat-free, sugar-free instant pudding” three times really fast?)
… when a big ole cup of Crystal Lite Raspberry Lemonade on ice does the trick for me as well as an amaretto sour used to.
… I’m not hitting some sort of Mexican joint (or quasi-Mexican joint, such as Taco Bueno) weekly.
… instead of pigging in tons of shrimp on SuperBowl Sunday, I COUNTED how many I could have and stuck with it.
… I have the energy to do a little housework.
How would people know something was wrong with YOU (e.g., you’d start doing Yoga, you’d actually get a job, whatever)??? Leave me a comment!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
"Flipping the Weight Loss Switch" Monday Part 3 (Food Dictators)
How do you NOT turn into a Food Dictator? You know, those people who are always on a diet and so they judge EVERYTHING that goes into YOUR mouth.
I like to mess with people when they’re having something naughty (cake, ice cream, fettucine alfredo) in front of me. I stare at them as I pig in my salad and finally say something like, “Um, excuse me, but I’m a recovering food addict in the Weight Watchers program. If I were a recovering alcoholic would you DRINK in front of me? How rude! If I fall off the food wagon, it’s all your fault.”
I like to burn incense to mask the smell of fried beef and onions when I make chili or other stinky meals. These days I also burn it to mask the smell of cake (Callie’s birthday) and other tempting things I have to cook for whatever reason. By the way, I used homemade applesauce instead of oil in all 3 cake mixes for Callie’s party. I guess I was DICTATING to the party guests that they didn’t need the extra oil in their diet.
So as far as NOT being a Food Dictator, well, just DON’T DO IT. Don’t be a jerk. Bring along your own salad dressing to people’s houses and when you go out to eat, but don’t make a big deal about it. Don’t tell people how much fat is in what they’re eating.
The sugar in my house has been cut way back (no more Candy Bowl for the kids on top of the fridge), but I still get it for them sometimes and just stay away from it or tell them to hide it from me. I still serve my family good meals … but if they have country fried steak, I’ll usually just have a bite or two and a huge grilled chicken salad. My husband and kids don’t have the food problem: I do.
I think the goal is to not be Extremist with yourself. I had some Hershey’s Kisses the other day and did NOT pig in the entire bag. For me, that’s progress.
Come back next Monday when we’ll talk about Weight Watchers.
I like to mess with people when they’re having something naughty (cake, ice cream, fettucine alfredo) in front of me. I stare at them as I pig in my salad and finally say something like, “Um, excuse me, but I’m a recovering food addict in the Weight Watchers program. If I were a recovering alcoholic would you DRINK in front of me? How rude! If I fall off the food wagon, it’s all your fault.”
I like to burn incense to mask the smell of fried beef and onions when I make chili or other stinky meals. These days I also burn it to mask the smell of cake (Callie’s birthday) and other tempting things I have to cook for whatever reason. By the way, I used homemade applesauce instead of oil in all 3 cake mixes for Callie’s party. I guess I was DICTATING to the party guests that they didn’t need the extra oil in their diet.
So as far as NOT being a Food Dictator, well, just DON’T DO IT. Don’t be a jerk. Bring along your own salad dressing to people’s houses and when you go out to eat, but don’t make a big deal about it. Don’t tell people how much fat is in what they’re eating.
The sugar in my house has been cut way back (no more Candy Bowl for the kids on top of the fridge), but I still get it for them sometimes and just stay away from it or tell them to hide it from me. I still serve my family good meals … but if they have country fried steak, I’ll usually just have a bite or two and a huge grilled chicken salad. My husband and kids don’t have the food problem: I do.
I think the goal is to not be Extremist with yourself. I had some Hershey’s Kisses the other day and did NOT pig in the entire bag. For me, that’s progress.
Come back next Monday when we’ll talk about Weight Watchers.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
How a New Mother’s Hygiene Suffers
Do you ever wonder why you go to the home of a stay-at-home mom at noon and find her unshowered, in sweatpants, sporting raccoon eyes (mascara under her eyes), mildly reeking of (pick one) baby poop, baby puke, baby pee, alcohol, Valium or cigarettes?
And you think, “Come ON, Lady! Get yourself together! You don’t have to be at work at 8 a.m. … why can’t you get up and get a flippin’ shower in? AND get your house clean and your kids clean and fed and educated by noon?”
My excuse is that I do attachment parenting and never know when I can get out of bed alone because YES I have made my kids dependent on me and my boob. And when I do get out of bed alone, I come straight to the computer to do some writing. I can clean while they’re awake and at my feet. The writing needs to be done ideally when they are unconscious.
Here’s my shower routine recently (it changes depending on whether I have a tiny baby around or more older kids):
I see a window of showering opportunity after lunchtime.
I start the shower. I make sure the boys are happy and playing (thank you, GOD, that I don’t have to worry about them leaving the house or burning it down while I’m showering). The boys are probably riding their bikes around on the main level since it’s 20 degrees outside.
I take the baby and Callie up to the bathroom to hang out with me since we all know a mom can’t take a shower alone. I throw some chocolate chips on the floor to occupy the baby.
I wash my hair. Michael comes in with the phone. Someone is ON the phone for me. I tell him I’m taking a shower and can I call the person back? I get about 5 more such visits from the boys, plus I have to peek out of the shower a few times to make sure Callie isn’t shaving the baby’s head.
I attempt to shave my legs, but only get so far as one shin before there’s crying outside. I get out, towel off, put on moisturizer and eye cream (I’m 37, ya know), some mascara, pit putty (deodorant). Throw my hair up in a clip, put on some clothes. Done.
The Domestic Goddess look will have to wait until the kids are out of the house. Again with the My Poor Husband comment.
And you think, “Come ON, Lady! Get yourself together! You don’t have to be at work at 8 a.m. … why can’t you get up and get a flippin’ shower in? AND get your house clean and your kids clean and fed and educated by noon?”
My excuse is that I do attachment parenting and never know when I can get out of bed alone because YES I have made my kids dependent on me and my boob. And when I do get out of bed alone, I come straight to the computer to do some writing. I can clean while they’re awake and at my feet. The writing needs to be done ideally when they are unconscious.
Here’s my shower routine recently (it changes depending on whether I have a tiny baby around or more older kids):
I see a window of showering opportunity after lunchtime.
I start the shower. I make sure the boys are happy and playing (thank you, GOD, that I don’t have to worry about them leaving the house or burning it down while I’m showering). The boys are probably riding their bikes around on the main level since it’s 20 degrees outside.
I take the baby and Callie up to the bathroom to hang out with me since we all know a mom can’t take a shower alone. I throw some chocolate chips on the floor to occupy the baby.
I wash my hair. Michael comes in with the phone. Someone is ON the phone for me. I tell him I’m taking a shower and can I call the person back? I get about 5 more such visits from the boys, plus I have to peek out of the shower a few times to make sure Callie isn’t shaving the baby’s head.
I attempt to shave my legs, but only get so far as one shin before there’s crying outside. I get out, towel off, put on moisturizer and eye cream (I’m 37, ya know), some mascara, pit putty (deodorant). Throw my hair up in a clip, put on some clothes. Done.
The Domestic Goddess look will have to wait until the kids are out of the house. Again with the My Poor Husband comment.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Meals on Wheels … Again
Back when I “only” had 3 kids, we had a Meals on Wheels route that we did every Wednesday over lunch. The kids were disappointed when I had to stop over 2 years ago because of homeschooling. It was also getting crazy because they were all 3 in carseats which they couldn’t buckle themselves into, and they ALL wanted to get out for each delivery, so it was taking way too long to get the meals delivered (I was aiming for getting these people their lunch by dinnertime … ha!).
Recently our church “time and talent” forms came in the mail. The church wants to know what activities you’ll sign up for or in what ways you want to help out (for instance, when my kids are older, I will be one of those women who cooks meals for post-funeral lunches). These days, though, not much grabs me on the extensive list except for the food drives and doing free childcare for activities (I get to take my own kids along and they LOVE it … we really miss our babysitting days). The back page of the form dares you (not really) to list ways you are contributing to society outside the church.
I thunk hard about that one. Then I wrote: Homeschooling and caring for 4 young children 24 hours a day.
And I thought, “Pshshshsh. I could do more than THAT!”
So I picked up the phone and called my Meals on Wheels chick. Funny thing is she had just pulled up my record the day before. And a Friday route had just that morning come available.
More on this later.
Recently our church “time and talent” forms came in the mail. The church wants to know what activities you’ll sign up for or in what ways you want to help out (for instance, when my kids are older, I will be one of those women who cooks meals for post-funeral lunches). These days, though, not much grabs me on the extensive list except for the food drives and doing free childcare for activities (I get to take my own kids along and they LOVE it … we really miss our babysitting days). The back page of the form dares you (not really) to list ways you are contributing to society outside the church.
I thunk hard about that one. Then I wrote: Homeschooling and caring for 4 young children 24 hours a day.
And I thought, “Pshshshsh. I could do more than THAT!”
So I picked up the phone and called my Meals on Wheels chick. Funny thing is she had just pulled up my record the day before. And a Friday route had just that morning come available.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
My First Date: Fatal Attraction
My dad said I could start dating when I was 16. However, nobody caught my eye until I was 16 ½. Yes, folks, I exercised restraint for 6 whole months. It worked out great since I got my driver’s license around the time of my first date. I’m thinking that will be a requirement before MY kids can date. And a black belt in karate. My girls especially need to be able to knock the crap out of a guy who’s getting fresh and then take off in his car.
So I met my first date in study hall. Nothing else to do, I suppose. He stared at me and showed interest, so I guess those were my only requirements at the time. I’ve since become more picky, thank God!
So he picks me up and we go to Bennigan’s for dinner. I should’ve seen the red flag when he tried to dictate (not SUGGEST, friends) what I eat and made fun of what I picked (chicken fingers), insinuating that I was like a kid. Then on to Crown Center Cinema to see …
… FATAL ATTRACTION.
What kind of movie is THAT to take an innocent 16-year-old girl to?
Our next “date” was much better. He paraded me around town to his boss, family and best friend (Paul, who is a good friend today). I don’t keep in touch with my first date at all. In fact, I won’t even share his name with you. I call him Voldemort, He Who Will Not Be Named, because it invokes negative memories.
Please share your first date experience in the Comments section below! How old were you? What did you do? When will you let your kids date?
So I met my first date in study hall. Nothing else to do, I suppose. He stared at me and showed interest, so I guess those were my only requirements at the time. I’ve since become more picky, thank God!
So he picks me up and we go to Bennigan’s for dinner. I should’ve seen the red flag when he tried to dictate (not SUGGEST, friends) what I eat and made fun of what I picked (chicken fingers), insinuating that I was like a kid. Then on to Crown Center Cinema to see …
… FATAL ATTRACTION.
What kind of movie is THAT to take an innocent 16-year-old girl to?
Our next “date” was much better. He paraded me around town to his boss, family and best friend (Paul, who is a good friend today). I don’t keep in touch with my first date at all. In fact, I won’t even share his name with you. I call him Voldemort, He Who Will Not Be Named, because it invokes negative memories.
Please share your first date experience in the Comments section below! How old were you? What did you do? When will you let your kids date?
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