December 12, 2007
So yesterday- not too bad. All things considered. Spot the goldfish came out from behind his plants, I waved, dropped in a little bit of food, and surprisingly, wasn’t tempted to eat him or the strange orange flakes he seems to enjoy so much. Though that got me thinking. Why can’t people have canned flakes, or bags of kibble? Wouldn’t it be so much easier if, instead of counting calories and weighing meat, we could just measure out a cup and a half of kibbles and bits? And then… I got an intense craving for pasta smothered in melted cheese and I realized that the whole thing was a stupid idea. Luckily, I wiped up my drool and was somehow able to lie to… er..convince myself that an orange would be just as good. Can’t believe I fell for that. Sucker.
I was able to keep my eating pretty clean, but I did cave a a bit at dinner. Thai. Sweet, sweet Thai. I thought that I could beat the craving, I started cooking dinner, only to find my broccoli had gone bad. Somehow, in my mind, that meant that God wanted me to have Thai food. (Which is why I would make an awful spiritual food advisor) So, I went. But, atleast Hubby and I walked over. Granted, it’s probably less than a hundred yards, but it was COLD! And I’m practically reptilian, so getting me to walk outside in anything less than 50 degrees is a feat in itself. I had a spring roll and a half, and pad se ew with shrimp. Yum! I was able to fit it into my calories for the day, or atleast pretty close.
But a funny thing happened. Today I wish I would have just gotten more broccoli and fixed the dinner I had planned. Not because the Thai food wasn’t good, or because it was that bad for me, but I realize that I gave into a craving that wasn’t a truly deserving craving. I mean, I wanted it, but I didn’t WANT it, y’know? But I guess that just comes with the territory. Y’see, I took the little are you a compulsive eater quizzicle, and out of 13 questions, I’m pretty sure I answered yes to 15 of them. Which basically means that I have a case of hand-mouth disease, in which I can’t keep the two away from eachother. But what it means in terms of my weight is that I can’t listen to my own inner food voices. Because let’s face it, my inner food voices would much rather tie me down with red vines and feed me cheese covered fried foods until I passed out or begged for mercy. I know that I don’t make good choices. And what’s sad about the whole thing is that I don’t even really want these things that I somehow feel I absolutely can’t live without.
But, all hope isn’t lost. Last night I crept into the kitchen and discovered my hubby had left the cookie dough (which had previously been placed in the witness protection program) on the counter. Sitting on the cutting board, a nice little knife sitting next to it. It was too easy. My mouth started to water, my hands started to shake. My eyes zoomed in. I began to stealthily sneak up on it, stalking my prey with silent precision. Somewhere in the living room, DH became aware of the feeding frenzy that was about to take place. He screamed “NOOOO!” and began running towards me. But it was too late. The knife was in my hand… the cookie dough was doomed. And I stopped. I put the knife down. I realized that I didn’t want the dough. I mean, come on. It wasn’t even home made. Baked goods should not come from anything resembling a log. By the time hubby reached me, the knife was down and the food demon was gone. I’m pretty sure I had already walked away from it even. When it came right down to it, I wanted the cookie dough because I
“shouldn’t” have it. And not because I really wanted it. And so I beat it. Healthy Outlook: 1. Cookie Dough Temptress: 2. (I did inform hubby that the dough’s cover had been blown. And it was better off relocated to a different state.)
But this morning… I found it. The Holy Grail of healthy breakfasts. But let me explain the journey. I love fruit. Just about every kind. Adding fruits.. ha! I can do that in my sleep (which might explain the grape stems I found underneath my pillow) But vegetables.. surely you jest. Sadly, I was a vegetarian for 10 years and I still don’t like more than a small handful of varieties. So I made it somewhat of a mini goal to somehow get more vegetables into my diet. I briefly considered buying one of those “sneaky chef” cookbooks about getting broccoli into brownies and other absurd ways of getting your daily 5. But I realize that I’m not eight, and considering I’m the cook in the household, I don’t really know if I can “sneak” them in. Maybe close my eyes while I add them? So I had this rolling around in my head for awhile and found myself in the pantry. Lo and behold- a can of pumpkin. And the wheels started turning. And this morning they turned into an amazing breakfast. I present you with…. Pumpkin Oatmeal! Now I’m sure that atleast a few people are grimacing at the thought, but bear with me.
1 serving oatmeal
1/4 cup canned pumpkin
2 splenda packets
2 tbsp vanilla cinnamon fat free creamer (though milk would probably be just fine as well)
Seasoning to taste: cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, clove.
And there you have it. Right around 200 calories, 36% of your daily fiber (if based on a 2000 calorie diet, which mine isn’t, so consider it even higher) and 300% of your vitamin A. And as an added bonus, totally delicious. It’s like pumpkin pie flavor in a totally nummy and comforting breakfast bowl. Granted, it was so filling that I couldn’t eat it all… but it was darn good what I did eat. Proof that God loves me and wants me to be happy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get any exercise in yesterday, other than our walk to dinner and back. But I had a killer sinus headache and the thought of bouncing was mortifying. Not to mention that my cold medication already had my head floating three feet above me. But tonight… is round two. Me v. the mini trampoline. I will emerge victorious. I will not be beaten by the bastard child of early 80s aerobics and effortless childhood. I did pull out my legwarmers. Maybe they’ll help, put the tramp more at ease (the exercise equipment, not me). So wish me luck. If you don’t hear from me again… be on the lookout for the “woman killed after jumping on mini trampoline, found impaled on Christmas tree” obituary. I won’t blame you if you laugh. I’ll just haunt you from beyond, by sending you a mini trampoline.
