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.

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.

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.

This Is It

Today is my last day of lemonade!! Yesterday I flubbed, but today will be a perfect day of purely lemonade consumption. Then I get a day and a half of juice and come Sunday evening I am dreaming up on incredible salad. Then Monday kicks of my "Eat Clean" diet and 30 days of "shredding" with my Jillian Michael's workout cd. Maybe I should do some before and after pics on this blog to keep me motivated. In just the last few days I have started to see a physical difference since starting the detox process. My stomach is definitely flatter, but I also just had a baby and so everything is shrinking back to normal anyway. It doesn't really matter, as I wasn't doing it as a weight loss thing, really a mental cleansing as much as a physical one. I've decided to do it every six months, over General Conference weekend. I think that will be a wonderful time to "detox" physically and spiritually and help me get in a good place for summertime and holiday eating. And now I think I'll mix up my final batch of lemon-maple-cayenne magic.

I Broke

Only two days to go and today I just about crumbled completely. This morning was a crazy one. Everyone seemed on edge and Isaac was feeding off of it by pushing me on every front. I overblended a protein shake and left it far too foamy for Daman's taste. And I was frantically trying to prepare, mentally and otherwise, for eight preschoolers to descend on our home. Do you think that cayenne lemonade was a soothing option in these circumstances? Right. The children arrived and chaos ensued. When I stay calm they are so much better, but I was nowhere near zen today and they seem to smell fear and fatigue and so shift into hyper gear. We were learning about colonial life. We made Jonny cakes and went outside to try to recreate some colonial chores--i.e. gathering sticks and pretending to feed chickens all while staring longingly at a trampoline. Then we returned inside to practice our sewing. All this time I am saying the same things far too many times and looking longingly at the valentine chocolates. Still, I was strong. But, in the end, after toting Emma around while herding five year olds was just too much. I ate a slice of Jonny cake. I hang my detoxified head in shame. But, I repented by chugging two huge cups of lemon maple joy and haven't touched anything else today--even the valentine chocolates and cookies up on the top shelf. Tomorrow is my last day of only lemonade. Then I have one day of only juice and the next day I get to have salad for dinner and then I begin my new life of eating clean. I am sad that I broke down, but it does not negate that I have cleared several hurdles in the last eight days. I still feel it is quite an accomplishment. I didn't throw my lemonade out the window after my moment of weakness, nor did I splurge because I figured it was all over anyway. Those are marks of growth I think. I will finish this thing and be ready to fuel my body better than ever because of this experience. Even the Jonny cake part of it.

I survived the weekend!!! Four days to go. . .

I made it through the weekend sustained only by water, lemon juice, cayenne and will power--oh and some maple syrup. I made and decorated Lucy's birthday cake without so much as one lick of icing. I survived guests who LOVE Valentine's day and so came prepared with chocolate and treats for everyone in the house. I didn't eat any ice cream in the stress induced by Daman's rockfish steaming experiment resulting in my new pyrex pan literally exploding all over our kitchen splattering oil, juice, and ginger into most nooks and crannies of our little kitchen. And, last night when I honestly thought that I would gag if I drank one more sip of spicy lemonade, I drank one more sip and I didn't eat any cookies and this morning I made another batch (less lemon this time--much better) and actually enjoyed it. So, I have only three more full days to go. Then I get two days of orange juice, a day of fruits and veggies, and then bring on the waffles for breakfast! I am still pondering how I will eat when food re-enters my life. I am thinking I will allow a refined sugar sweet once a month, though eventually I hope to get to a point where I can live without it. I think I will do this cleanse every six months to help me stay focused on my body and in a good place with food. I can't believe I've gone six days without food. Ok, I confess I made this new eggplant dish for dinner on Sunday and I was dying to know how it turned out, so I took a bite. And it was really good and noone else liked it, and now it is just going to waste because I won't be able to eat it until Monday. Oh well. I am pretty sure farmers are still growing eggplant.

Day 3--Back and Forth

One hour I feel really great. I feel in control of my body, strong, clean, and full of pep. Fast forward an hour and I am hungry, craving an apple and making a peanut butter and honey bagel for Isaac and wondering how on earth I am going to do this another week. Currently I am somewhere in the middle. I have to focus on the actual brevity of the experiment. I can do this. I went to a baby shower last night, complete with chocolate cream puffs, cake, and a really tempting fruit tray with chocolate fondu. I sipped my water and reveled in my own self control. Only about a week to go. Tonight is pizza night, tomorrow we'll have a special valentine's breakfast and this weekend we are entertaining guests. It will be a tough couple of days to be drinking lemonade. Oh well, there will be food around in a week when I am done with this and I'll have a much better relationship with it when I get there.