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I Could Never Be Italian

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 Tonight’s dinner was, hands down, the most stressful meal I’ve ever made (aside from Thanksgiving dinner). What did you make, you ask? Spaghetti and freakin’ meatballs (damn meatball song)!  I was planning on a simple meal of beef fajitas. Beef, onion, green pepper, tortilla and salsa. OOOOOOHHHHHH NO!  Beau calls about three, asking if we have any spaghetti in the house. Hmmmm…. wonder what he wants. I tell him we’re having fajitas and using the meat that he took out of the freezer last night but didn’t use. Even though this was not the planned meal, my ‘good wife’ mode kicked in, and I remembered that you could make your own ground beef in a food processor. So the internet search began for steak meatballs. I came up with a recipe that asked for steak, pork and veal. I had two of the three and thus my hellacious evening began.  

I started cooking at 3:30. The meal wasn’t finished until 5:30. Two solid hours of cooking! Oh. Did I mention I was trying to raise two children in the process? One was excited that she could cut, and called the other to show him the scissors. He got ahold of them, and was ‘cutting the air’ with them, using both hands. Her hand got in the way. My scissor-monster got in time out two times and argued with me about both of them ending up with more time than he expected. I was so busy in the kitchen that I was annoyed at my children when they’d ask for something or where something was, and I would practically yell at them for doing so. This really stressed me out. I don’t like ignoring my kids, but I just could not stop or those stupid little meatballs would burn! (which some of them did because the recipe told me to set my pan on high, but don’t let the oil smoke. Well, it didn’t smoke, but it was TOO high!! They ended up cooking perfectly on LOW. Stupid recipe).

The worst part?  Beau didn’t LOVE it. I envisioned him going for seconds and thirds and giving a loving belch afterward (not really). First, I had him try the two sauces. Two sauces? Yes, two sauces. There were so many stupid meatballs that the sauce I lovingly created from scratch only covered half of them. So I got out another skillet and covered the other half of the meatballs with bottled sauce. He liked the bottled sauce better (stupid Prego).

Dinner was served, he handed me some of his spaghetti squash (which I serve with the pasta) and whispered “I don’t like that.”

He picked at the meatballs and said, “This looks like turkey meat.”

“It’s not”

“Why does it look so white inside? Did you sneak something in there?”

“Carrots”

“Oh. I can taste them”. (Long Pause) ”What’s wrong?”

 I pouted that I slaved over this dinner FOR HIM and he didn’t like it.

“What are you talking about? Look! I’m eating it! I like the meatballs! I love it!”

Whatever.  Next time I’m buying frozen.

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My Poor Meatball

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Last night, after dinner while I’m cleaning up, I start singing On Top Of Spaghetti to my kids for the first time. I had only sung the first three verses (up to where the meatball turns into mush) and my newly-4-year-old son started to cry!  I was watching his intent little face watch me as I was singing the song. It went from joy to concern to almost fear. By the time I sang “mush”, he was in tears. Small, but very concerned and sad ones. Small, to the point where I thought he had been taking drama lessons on the side from my 2 year old daughter. But since this was his first attempt at theatrics, I played along, not yet sure if he was indeed playing me or not.

I gave all sorts of concern. Picked him up into my lap.  His big frown just kept saying, “I don’t like that song” but he didn’t know why. He told me he was scared of the song. I asked what part? He didn’t know, but amidst a sea of tears, he kept asking me about that stupid meatball!  “Why did it go under a bush?” “what happened to it?” All the while, my “Me Too! Girl”, was climbing on my back,  half choking me, telling me she too, was scared of the song and didn’t like it (roll eyes).

My conclusion is that his tears were real because he asked me about the meatball several times today, and started making comparisons with his baseballs, and how they don’t roll under bushes, just into the street. 

Poor little guy. It’ll probably be a long time before he’ll try this Italian classic.

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Pasta Pleaser

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Wednesday night is kid’s night at our house. My son got a cook book for his birthday and he gets to choose the recipe we make for kid’s night. I let them stand on chairs and alternate helping me with everything. Last week he chose roasted sausages and winter vegetables. It was a hit. Tonight he chose Italian Tuna Pasta. He can not read, so he chooses by looking at all the pictures. I wanted to post the recipe because both my kids liked it! Did you see that?  My picky 2 year old liked it (well, the sauce anyway. My carbohydrate-loving daughter does not like pasta). This recipe is from Kids’ Fun & Healthy Cookbook:

Ingredients:
2 1/2 C pasta bows
2 T Olive Oil
2 large cloves garlic (crushed)
1 tsp. dried oregano (optional)
2 tsp. tomato puree
2 15.5 oz. cans chopped tomatoes
1/2 tsp sugar (optional)
6 oz. canned tuna in Olive Oil (drained)
salt & pepper

Directions: (summarized)
1. Cook pasta until tender.
2. Heal oil in saucepan, Saute garlic for about 1 min. Stir in the oregano, tomatoes and the puree.
3. Bring the sauce to a boil and reduce heat. Half cover the pan and simmer for 15 min, until sauce has reduced by 1/3 and thickened.
4. Stir tuna into the sauce. Heat through, adding sugar if necessary.
5. Drain pasta, reserving 2 T of the water. Return pasta and water to the saucepan. Stir in sauce until pasta is coated.

Add chickpeas for a protein boost (I was planning on doing this, but I forgot)
If you try the recipe, let me know what you think.

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Highbeams, Rolls and Dimples Exposed. Barf.

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I can’t hold it back anymore. What is it with older ladies thinking they need to ”dress to impress” at the gym?  About a month ago, I wanted to blog about somone I saw in my gym, but didn’t feel I had enough content to have a blog post. Then today, there was another one, so now, I have twice as much to say. ha! 

A month ago: Here I am, minding my own business on the treadmill. On the machines next to me were two women running and chatting (I was impressed. I sure can’t talk and run). Then it happened. A horrendous sight imposed upon us. Strolling in front of us was a woman in her late-fifties. Her frizzy hair was a disaster, but I guess that didn’t matter because it was obvious she was trying to draw attention, um, elsewhere.  She had large implants (D’s?) without a bra! Just a thin grey shirt. Please people! I’m all for implants if you want them, but wear a bra at the gym! No one wants to see grandma with her highbeams on! All three of us on the treadmills had to pick our jaws up off the floor. We looked at each other to be sure we were indeed seeing the atrocity in front of us. One of the women made a loud comment and we all snickered. I felt like I was in high school. I wonder if ‘boob-grandma’ heard her as I haven’t seen her in the gym since. 

Today: Another woman. In her fourties. Spandex capris and a sports bra.  I think I counted 3 ab rolls and I didn’t want to try to count the dimples when she turned around. Ew.

My assessment: I am a self admitted fashion amateur, but I do know that women should always wear a sports bra at the gym. And I know that if you can count belly rolls or leg dimples you should wear shirts and pants, respectively. 

Excuse me. I’m going to go throw up.

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Irony at it’s best

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Just when I tell the world I want to post every day, I have nothing to say. Sorry, all.  I’ll post when I have something good to blog about.

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Me. A Food Addict?

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I don’t know why, but this guy is cute!  

Me. A food addict? In therapy today, my psychologist told me she wanted me to pick up a copy of Anatomy of A Food Addiction by Anne Katherine. I went in feeling guilty and depressed about my food choices this weekend. I told her I felt that I earned the pizza because I had worked out a lot during the week. I guess “earned” and “guilt” were red flags for her because now she thinks I might be addicted to food. After some research today, while I’m still unsure about all of this, I think I fit best into Binge Eating Disorder . (By the way, I did do more research than just Wikepedia; this just seemed to give the best overall explanation.)

I also researched to see if, in fact, I am a food addict. There were several sites I found that gave diagnostic questions. The FA website was really good, but this site’s list was the most succinct. 

One need only ask themselves a few key questions to determine his or her addiction:

  • Do you eat when you are not hungry or when you feel low or depressed?
  • Do you eat in secret or eat differently in front of others than when you’re alone?
  • Do you consume inordinate amounts of food and then purge later with vomiting or laxatives to get rid of the excess?
  • Are there foods that are harmful to you, but you eat them anyway?
  • Do you feel guilty after eating?

If you can answer yes to any of these questions than you are likely addicted to food.  

So where does that leave me? Confused. A possible excuse at the tip of my fingers. Relieved. Curious. Anxious to know more. I’ve ordered the book. I’ll need to do a lot of research before I can convince myself that this is true. While it’s true that the majority of people with BED are overweight, I’m not discounting the fact that I could be amongst the few that are within normal weight range.  

Thoughts?

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Depressed

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 (No this is not me, although, it very well could be! Damn, we look alike!)

What do you think about my posting every day? I know I miss it when I don’t post.  Sorry, Eric Kintz, I don’t mean to hog the internet, but I feel I do better on my diet when I post. This is where I write my daily food journal. This is where I reveal that I am a real person who struggles with diet as much as the next guy. This is where I keep my motivation, and try to get help from others when my motivation is down, like it was this weekend:

This weekend was my son’s 4th birthday party.
What I planned: I planned on being good. I planned on using all 3 cheats on 2 pieces of pizza and one piece of cake. When I used one of my cheats on chips earlier in the week, I knew that I would have to settle on only one piece of pizza. And as I had already used all 3 alcoholic drinks, I knew I wouldn’t be drinking the rest of the week.
What actually happened: I DON’T KNOW! The pizza came, and I ate 3 pieces, then had my cake (double icing) and then I started in on the wine (3 glasses).
What happened next: We went fishing the next day. I ate fairly healthy during the day (as always), but was so tired when I got home I didn’t feel like cooking. I ate half a veggie pizza, 2 breadsticks, and I munched on chips & dip before the pie came. Wine? 3.

I am depressed. I feel dumb. The ONLY reason I haven’t posted before now is because I am afraid of what you (my invisible audience) might think. I feel like I should be the perfect model for this diet so you know it works and that it’s easy. These setbacks do not go along with my master plan (insert evil laugh: mwah haaa haaaa!)  So far I am only 50% successful (in weeks, measured) and let me tell you; Failing sucks. In fact, I celebrated that fact tonight with a whole (mini) loaf of whole grain bread and a whole bottle of wine.

Help me.

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Burn, Baby, Burn!

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 Success! I did my Yo-Yo Workout at the Gym today. I ran my top speed for the entire 3 minutes! I have been trying to do this for a few weeks, and would only last about a minute, and need to reduce my speed to finish out the 3 minute running block. Now my goal is to do this for a few more weeks until it becomes comfortable, and then I’ll up my starting speed, thus increasing my top speed. The machine I used did not let me enter my weight and age, so I don’t know how accurate this count is, but it said I burned 400 calories in 30 minutes! I think that’s pretty good, considering magazines like Shape give you half hour workouts to burn about 250 calories.

I was reading my Wellness magazine today, and came across an article titled Melt the Last 10 Pounds. I love getting little tips like this, but I particularly liked #6:

6. GO FOR THE CALORIE BURN
Have you been heeding the advice that longer, lower-intensity exercise bouts maximize fat burning? That may be why the scale isn’t moving for you. While it’s true that the percentage of calories from fat that you burn does decrease as you up your exercise intensity, when you’re trying to lose weight, you want to burn as many calories as you can, whether from fat or carbohydrates. If you double your exercise intensity, you double the rate at which you burn calories – both fat and carbs. Add an incline to your treadmill workouts or notch up the intensity on your workout machine of choice.

 This goes along with what I said in my Diet Tips and Strategies Page (the 3rd one):

When you work out, try to work out hard! The harder you work out, the better it is for your body. Hey, you’re there anyway, you might as well get the most out of your time.  Don’t let that overwhelm you though, just walking and breaking a sweat is better than nothing at all, so get moving!

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Vanity Sizing: What a Crock.

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 I had some time to myself today to do some birthday shopping. Since I only have about 4 pair of pants that fit me, I headed to Old Navy because that’s one of my favorite on-a-budget places to get clothes.  For $97, I walked away with 4 pairs of pants, 2 tank tops, 1 pair of jeans, a hoodie tank and a nightie. Woo Hoo!

Shopping today took a lot longer than I would have liked. Since I have lost a bit of weight and have been working out, I wanted to know what size I was. I walked into the dressing room with 2 pairs of pants, an 8 and a 6.  The 6 was my ‘hopeful pant’ (the one I was hoping to fit into) Guess what? The 6’s were too big.  I had the girl run and get me a 4 and it fit perfectly! “Who knew I was half the size I thought I was!” I giggled. She smiled as I strutted out on cloud nine.

I thought I had a slight case of Body Dysmorphic Disorder until I found an article which stated:

…the Gap is one of a number of major U.S. retailers that have been trying to influence shoppers’ sales decisions by offering inflated sizes. Across the country, at stores like DKNY, French Connection, Old Navy and J. Crew, retailers are giving relatively large clothing a lower, more flattering size label, a practice known in the industry as “vanity sizing.”

Well there goes my ego.  I thought it curious a few years ago, when I lost all my baby weight, and was in a size 0, 1, 2 or 4, depending on where I shopped.  J. Crew  wanted me to think I didn’t exsist at a size 0. I was a 1 at Arden B, The Gap had me at a 2 and at Old Navy, I was an Extra Small and a size 2-4 (yes, I was really thin).

I raced home (not feeling as thin as I was three and a half years ago) to try on my old Old Navy 4’s. I’m thinking, “yeah! I’ve got more clothes to wear!” Surprise! They didn’t fit. So how is it that I was able to purchase Old Navy 4’s today? Because it has gotten worse! In just the last three and a half years, the clothes have gotten bigger, but the sizes have stayed the same. That’s appalling. These rapacious companies are preying on women’s desires to be thin to sell clothing.

“Who me? A size 4? Really?  Wow!  I thought I was a 6 when I walked in the store!?”  Reality check: You’re still a 6, Kim. The Jig is Up, Vanity Sizing Companies… you can’t fool me anymore.

 EDIT: Diet Blog has a very similar blog post about Vanity Sizing

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Motivation: Shoes!

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 I got new Asics this weekend.  It seems that’s what I needed to re-motivate. Something to excite me back into the gym. That, or the fact that Monday is the start of my diet week, and I could start with a clean slate today. I’ve had my week-and-2-weekends ’off’ and I’m not proud of it. Yes, I did enjoy good food and drink, but I feel I could’ve done that with healthy foods instead of chips and pizza.  I thought (and posted) several times that I was over my indulgences, but I was apparantly trying to convince myself instead of actually being over it. So I’m not lying to you (or myself) this time when I say, I’m back.

My husband tried to stop me from eating chips on Saturday. I told him, “I’m starting over on Monday.”  That’s been my M.O. with dieting. Once I’ve messed up for the day, week or month, I roll myself into an avalanche of excuses and end up feeling broken with a mountain to re-climb. I used to run a Diet Challenge with a bunch of my friends. We’d diet for a month at a time, comparing BMI (body mass index) Points lost at the end of the month. We’d stop a day or two before month-end, so we could get together for a reward dinner where the losing team bought dinner for the winners. Every month, I’d go off my diet at that dinner, and the next day or so until the Diet Challenge started again the first of the month. I would have gained some weight in those few days, making my starting BMI a bit higher, which would then be easy to lose and I’d help my team. I quit running the challenge because I got tired of tricking myself and I was steadily gaining weight.

I think if I can figure out how to stay motivated all the time, I would be set. Duh. I put the 3 Cheats into The Rule of Three Diet to keep me from going off track, but apparently, that hasn’t worked for me yet. I am going to make myself use my cheats on food this month, and not wine. Maybe that will help keep me on track by allowing small treats throughout the week, instead of ending up feeling so deprived that I take another full week off.

If any of you have any suggestions for how you stay motivated, I’d love to read them! Please add a comment.

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