Not bad for a fat girl

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Walking in Figure Eights

Since school let out, I have some time at home. This free time is both a pleasure and a problem. The pleasure is that I have time to relax, clean up, read, rest, and work on both my summer writing project work and my school work for next year (it comes so quickly).

The problem is that my house is where I keep food (don’t you?) and it’s not exactly a gym (thank goodness). At this point in my life, I need to eat better and eat less, and I need to move more. Being home seems to be at odds with both of those goals. How to cope? Well, here’s what I’m trying:

  1. Get rid of the crap. This isn’t difficult in and of itself, it’s the fact that I live with other people who are healthy and normal and don’t sabotage themselves by overeating particular foods. So far, though, having certain foods in the house hasn’t been a big deal. I just don’t have the foods that I crave, like ice cream, for example. My sweetheart’s chips aren’t that big a draw for me, at least not yet.
  2. 51PoQ8xw5IL._SX258_BO1,204,203,200_.jpgPlan meals. Picking out meals ahead of time, and shopping for those specific ingredients has been helping. I’m not even too stressed about the specific recipes at this point, as long as I know they’re made with real ingredients (as opposed to heavily processed foods) I’m okay with them. My go-to cookbook is Saving Dinner by Leanne Ely. She’s a certified nutritionist and the recipes are simple and delicious. Her website, SavingDinner.com has tons of free recipes.
  3. Buy good food. What works for me might not work for you, but having stuff I like that’s also good for me helps. I have more fruit in my house, more vegetables, more cottage cheese and yogurt, more oatmeal and cereal, more hard-boiled eggs, and more nuts than I have at other times. These foods fuel me in a way that doesn’t include tons of empty calories.
  4. water-bottle-png-1Drink that water. I get thirsty. I drink. I get hungry. I drink. I take meds. I drink. I want something in my hand. I drink. Drinking water moves me through the day (and down the hall to the restroom…more steps!).
  5. Pay attention to my Fitbit. When it says I better get moving I listen (usually). Every hour we should be moving our bodies, and if I don’t have a certain number of steps with ten minutes left in the hour the Fitbit gives me a reminder to get to it. Sometimes I march in place, and sometimes I walk figure eights around my kitchen island and couch. Why not just go outside? Because we’re already over a hundred degrees here, but the pool is still cold (well, by my picky standards). Soon, though, I’ll be walking laps in there.

I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing, and hopefully that little switch in my brain will click into the spot that helps me rather than sabotages me. I’m so thankful to all the wonderful positive people who have stepped forward to offer encouragement. This is a never-ending battle, but one I can’t afford to lose.


Skillet Dinner – Recipe Included

It’s not what you think.

It’s not what it ought to be.

It ought to be a delicious, hearty skillet full of things like vegetables and potatoes and sausage. Maybe it has an egg on top, or some cheese melted over it. You can picture it, right? So can I, but it’s not what was in my skillet dinner the other night.

My skillet dinner was actually dessert.

Yes, I skipped the whole dinner thing altogether and just made, and ate, dessert.

I blame the internet for this.

You see, one of those delicious Buzzfeed recipes came across my Facebook page and I just had to check it out. It claimed to be a three course meal, but all I saw was dessert. A giant, gooey skillet cookie.

I didn’t have a skillet.

I bought one.

It was on the list, anyway, so don’t judge me.

It was so easy. It was so delicious. It was so full of calories.

At least there were fewer calories consumed than if I had eaten it AFTER a meal, rather than INSTEAD of it, right? And there were leftovers, plenty of them. It was too rich to eat much of.

Would I make it again? Yes.

Would I have it for dinner again? Also yes.

I have no shame.


Skillet Chocolate Chip Cookie

as made by BulgingButtons

30 oz. package chocolate chip cookie dough

(original recipe said 24 oz. but I couldn’t find it)

8 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips

(original recipe said 8 oz chocolate, didn’t say what kind)

Preheat oven to 325° F

Press 2/3 of cookie dough into a 10 in iron skillet

Place chocolate on top

Roll out remaining dough, then place on top of chocolate and seal edges

Bake for 35-40 minutes

Eat for dinner


Thanksgiving Memories – originally posted 2013

$(KGrHqRHJEsFJmNijd1iBSc60g7T-g~~60_35I’m seven years old. Cousin Frankie is visiting from South Africa. He’s my mother’s cousin and he’s over six feet tall. I come from a family of rather short people (not me, I’m adopted) and in this crowd he’s a giant. He lifts me to his shoulders. I am queen of the world. He gives me a whisker rub. He leaves me with a gold bracelet with my name engraved on it. I love cousin Frankie.

I don’t know exactly what year it is, but it’s the early 1970’s. I am wearing a long lavender dress. Long dresses are in fashion. We eat Thanksgiving dinner in a lovely large room at a country club. I will, many years later, hold my wedding reception in this same room at this same country club. I will wear a long dress that day too, but it will be white.

For many years in a row there is Thanksgiving dinner at my mother’s dining room table. She carves the turkey in the kitchen with the electric knife. It sounds as though there is a horror movie being filmed. We don’t dare enter.  My grandmother brings the dressing, an old German recipe. It is delicious and like nothing else I have ever eaten. One year, in my early adulthood, she asks me what I would like for Hanukkah. I tell her I would like that recipe. She writes it for me in her spiky German inspired script. I treasure it, but cannot reproduce it.

I am a college student, on a study abroad semester in Great Britain. I miss my family and I miss the sound of English without a British accent and I miss salsa. I buy a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving. My father is furious at the idea but gives me the biggest hug of anyone at the airport. It was worth the money for that memory. I returned after a week much happier and much better adjusted. It was worth the money for the peace of mind.

We’ve  recently moved away from family, the boyfriend (future ex-husband) and me. His brother and a friend live with us. Their grandfather and his crazy wife are in town. The four of us young people manage to cook our first Thanksgiving meal, and our elderly guests enjoy it greatly, as do we. The green bean casserole turns out too peppery, but other than that it is perfect, and Leon Lett doesn’t score his touchdown. I love that.

My son is small and his uncle is in town (father’s brother) as is his aunt (father’s step-sister). We hold Thanksgiving at our house (as has become tradition) and decide to do it on the back patio. It is a gorgeous warm day and we have a wonderful holiday.

I am in the midst of my divorce. We want to keep things as normal as possible for our 12 year old so I cook Thanksgiving dinner as always. I invite my ex-in-laws (out-laws?) to my home as I have for years. I also invite my ex-husband. I do not invite his girlfriend. We wait for him. We keep waiting for him. He finally calls. He has totaled his car on the way to my house. Nobody is hurt. His father picks him up. We carry on as if nothing has happened, because this is what we do.

0009442826485_AV2_500X500I am in a new relationship. He is so different from any man I have ever known except one. He is like my father in many important ways. He wants to fry a turkey. This is completely unlike my father who had no interest in preparing food (although he did enjoy eating it, very much). We go on a quest to find the exact turkey fryer he wants. We end up with one that he thinks will do. It is just the two of us for Thanksgiving that year. His fried turkey is delicious. We have a new tradition. Fried for Thanksgiving, roasted for Christmas.

Life keeps changing. We change with it. Looking forward to many more Thanksgivings.