Sunday, May 24, 2009

Cookies. . . .

i love them i love them i love them i love them.

Is this a problem? If someone out there actually can eat just one cookie--even when they cooked them-could they please bottle that power and sell it? I mean, I have cooked batches of cookies without licking one finger or even tasting one cookie. So willpower I have. . . until I take the first taste that I somehow think shall be my last. Honestly, have you ever really eaten just one cookie? Do these people exist? If so, how? What goes through your head when you just eat one cookie? Do they just not want another one? Is it a battle of wills or some naturally engrained healthy instinct that rests on a chromosome that apparently did not come standard on me. Who knows. All I know is that I love cookies; good ones, mediocre ones, lame store bought ones. If it is round and consists of mostly butter and sugar--I love it. Oh well. Yet again I find myself rolling around in that term, "sugar addict." Do I accept it? Do I keep trying to pretend I can live in sweets moderation, enjoying a cookie now and then without spinning into a cyclone of sugar consumption, totally void of tastebuds and self-control? Stay tuned. . . I certainly will.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Not Up

The scale has not gone up. This is good news and is following my plan. Peanut butter and jam sandwich? Not following my plan. Yesterday I had an awesome three miler, complete with chest-heaving "fartleks." Then, I walked the kids to the library, whole foods, and the park. Someone slap us on the cover of "Active Family." This trek unfortunately convinced me that I had probably earned some diet wiggle room and so I snitched some granola, yogurt covered almonds and had quiche for dinner. But, I repeat, the scale has not gone up. And that is my daily focus. We'll see how tomorrow flies.

How does one handle leftovers? Do we scarf the last few bites of the peanut butter sandwich our child leaves behind because we wish we were really having that for lunch anyway? Which is worse--wasted food in the trash or in my stomach? Either way it isn't doing anyone any good I guess and noone is going to give me a refund on my grocery bill if I can prove that every bit of my purchase was eaten. So, I should just let it go. I should stop licking my fingers, stop hoping Lucy won't finish her sandwich, and realize that I deserve to stick to my plan. My goals merit eating differently, and if I have a good attitude about it, I won't create children with eating disorders. I don't want my girls to be consumed by their body image. I want them healthy and strong. I also don't want to sit by them while they sob into their pillow because a boy at school called them beached whale. I've sobbed into that pillow. Once and awhile I still cry quietly into that pillow.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Hello Again

I was surprised to discover that this little blog I thought I had tucked safely away along with any kind of external accountability has actually been read of late. And so, for you Amanda, I will keep on keeping on. . with many things. The last few months have been a ride. I've done Body for Life for a month, losing four pounds in the first week and then eeking out just .4 lbs off a week after that. Frustration doesn't quite cover the "want to throw the blasted scale out the window" sensation I felt bubble up inside me. Then came Florida. Then came Daman's broken arms. Then came a week of complete total reckless food abandon. . . sneaking snacks, raiding cupboards and scarfing cookies all with the excuse that it was to be my last splurge, my final hurrah before embarking on a true sugar free life. That life has yet to begin and perhaps it never will. Perhaps it never will because I just can't want to live that life enough to do it without resent and resent cracks your will when brownies stare at you screaming that you have every right to eat them darnit.
There is a very unfortunate side effect to this healthy quest of mine. In an effort to focus on becoming the body that I have in my head I've cultivated a unhealthy disdain for the body I am in right now. I look at myself in disgust and dread and feel utterly hopeless that I could really look like much of anything pretty at all. Though I did like the Body for Life plan, it put me in hyperfocus on food and body and diet and that is actually the last thing I need right now. The more I think about losing weight, the more I hate the weight that is on me and that slowly seeps into just plain hating me. And that isn't healthy, no matter your jeans size.
So, this is my new approach. I bought a scale when I got back from Florida. I weighed myself and the eyebrows shot straight up when I realized the damage wasn't nearly what I'd imagined. And I looked at that number and said, "Ok, I don't know if I'm going to lose any weight, but today I'm going to eat in a way to make sure that I don't go above that number." And the next morning--it was down! So, I said the same thing to myself: "Self, just don't go above that number." I am following Weight Watchers--using their filling foods plan, which means I don't track, but I only eat fruits, veggies, whole grains, lowfat dairy, and lean meat/beans. I write down anything outside of that and keep it within my extra "points" for the week or use any exercise points I earn. But, I've eliminated all timelines, expectations, or physical visions--or at least tried to any way. I've lost three pounds, which is great. But, I don't know if it will continue and I am trying very hard not to care. Right now I am praying to love my body. I am praying to see myself as beautiful. I am praying to care for my body as the Temple it is and trying to appreciate the fact that these legs have run a marathon, these arms have held babies, and this face has kept looking up when all it feels like doing is looking down and crying. That is a body I can and will love--even if I don't lose another pound. That said, I am certainly hoping I will and if I follow the plan, I am confident my body will travel to a healthier size, weight, and shape. But, right now what I am is what I am and I've got to start smiling at the mirror instead of scowling.