BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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I Never Learned to Eat Like a Girl

berniceI’ve always been sort of a tomboy. I never liked dresses (although now I love them, I’m wearing one right now, in fact). I never was fussy in a girly-girl type of way. I hadn’t had a pedicure until I was 40. I still don’t wear make-up on a regular basis. The trappings of femininity more of less escape me.

I’m not quite sure why that is, except that my mom wasn’t much of a girly girl either. Oh sure, she was tiny and petite and loved to dress up for formal events, but she didn’t wear make-up and kept her nails short and wasn’t fussy. She also ate real food, just not very much of it.

I never really noticed any of this growing up, except that part about her getting dressed up. My father was a physician, and they attended lots of formal events. There were hospital dinners, and colleagues’ dinner parties, and parties galore. My father had his own tux, and my mother owned several glamorous gowns. I loved when they went out, because my mom and dad always looked so refined to me. The house would smell of my mother’s perfume, and my dad would slick back his hair with some gawd-awful grease that made him look quite dashing. I can’t help but smile just thinking about it.

It didn’t occur to me until many years later that there was nearly always a doggy bag from those events, and we NEVER gave the dog table food, except Kraft American cheese. That was his training treat. Why was there always a doggy bag? Because my mother never ate her entire meal, and it was too good to waste. My brother or I would get the leftovers the next day, my mother claiming that it was too rich for her.

Now I know what that phrase means, but back then I had no clue. I have to thank my mother for not making me second guess every morsel I put in my mouth, but part of me secretly wishes I knew the secret of eating like a girl from way back. I eat lunch with some lovely young teachers, and they all know the secret. They munch on peppers and hummus or pick at salads or quinoa dishes with lentils. I’m sorry, it’s all too much for me. I don’t want to eat like that.

It’s true that we didn’t eat like that at home growing up, but we didn’t eat poorly either. tumblr_nthjnsfh061r38eolo1_500I blame my bad habits on hanging out with the guys. Chicken wings and beer? Sure! Pizza watching the game? You bet. Those other girls may fill their plates with raw broccoli and carrots, but I’m going to have a delicious bowl of chili. With cheese. And sour cream. And Fritos. Ok, I’m done. Except maybe I’ll have a brownie too.

Years of eating like that has certainly taken its toll. Being “one of the guys” when you’re really a girl doesn’t always pay off. I’m learning to eat better, but old habits die hard. What I wouldn’t give for a double cheeseburger and fries right now.


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One Week Down (not quite) and a Million Weeks to Go

Hello my dear readers. I’m sure you’ve been waiting on the edge of your seats to find out all about the visit I paid to the nutritionist last week. Well, here it is in a nutshell: it didn’t suck. I expected it to, and I was pleasantly surprised.

Some reasons why it didn’t suck:

  1. She was nice.
  2. She asked me what I like.
  3. She DID NOT make me hop on the scale first thing.
  4. She DID NOT make me ban anything from my diet.
  5. She asked me where my motivation was on a 1-10 scale and was fine with my completely honest 7.
  6. She DID NOT ask me to keep a food diary.
  7. She showed me specific numbers from my most recent blood work and explained how my diet affects those numbers.
  8. She DID NOT treat me like an idiot.
  9. She took her time explaining things to me and answering my questions.
  10. She was nice.

Honestly, I knew some of what she shared but I learned some new things too. I came away armed with some strategies that are totally do-able and somehow that 7 has ticked over to at least an 8. And yes, I did get on the scale before I left, because I wanted a starting point. I made a follow-up appointment too, and so far, so good. I have a feeling that appointment will go well.


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Hello Zambia

Zambia-Map1--e1390823349139It’s always such a nice surprise to peek at the blog stats page and find that a visitor from some unexpected place has stopped by. Today that place is Zambia. Now I’m fully aware that it doesn’t mean that some wonderful person from Zambia has actually read this blog, it might be that someone with an IP address from there is phishing, but I like to imagine otherwise. I know that real people in many parts of the world have actually read my words, and I find that remarkable.

The world has definitely shrunk since I was a kid. I remember having a pen pal in elementary school, and we would write about once a month. I lived in the Northeast U.S. and she lived in Puerto Rico. It seemed so far away, and so exotic. The thing that struck me, though, was how similar our lives were. We both wrote about school and family and friends. I imagine most of our readers in “exotic” locales have the same interests and concerns as the rest of us.

Right now one of those concerns is trying to follow my nutritionist’s advice. Yes, I’m at it again. Now the focus is on lean protein and healthy fats, with many vegetables and few carbs. So far, so good, but it’s only been a couple of days. Still, I feel like I’m hitting a reset button somewhere inside my body, so I’m not craving as much garbage food. I wonder if people in Zambia have food addictions? Do they have Hot Tamales candy? Probably not, but I’m sure there are other things they deal with.