The Sticky Roll Incident

About two weeks ago I was having one of those days: the ones where nothing seems to be going right and you want to turn around and go back to bed, hoping you can start all over again and try to get it right the second time. It was also a very hectic day with longer hours at work, then chauffeuring my daughter to her orthodontist, grabbing a quick supper, then going to gymnastics (Mabel's hand is healed now and she's back to hand-springing and round-offing all over the place).



While I was waiting for the three hour (!!!) practice to end, occupying myself with book reading in my car, my cell phone rang and it was my hubby. He announced to me that since I had such a rough day he would have a surprise for me when I got home. By that point the day was almost over, and to be honest, the book reading had done wonders for my mood. Other than being tired from the long day, I actually didn't feel so bad anymore.



So I got home, and there on the kitchen island was an entire half sheet pan (11.5x16.5 inches) brimming with sticky nut rolls. Hubby was so proud of himself, and I must tell you, they looked and smelled fantastic. But to be honest, the very first thought in my head was, "Oh, no..." I did eat one; I had been planning to get some kind of snack on the way home from gymnastics (Mabel's always starving after her workout, and since on those days we eat supper around 4 p.m., by 8 I'm usually a little peckish, too), so I drove straight home, since I knew any surprise from hubby would more than likely be food-related. I guess I was hoping it would be some little individual treat made just for me, not a bevy big enough for a party.

Later I tried to explain to him that I'm learning and actually accepting the fact that food, especially treats like those rolls, cannot really comfort and give me "happiness." I appreciated the thought and effort he put into it, but the food itself is irrelevant, and I can no longer give it that power anymore. Hubby listened and nodded and said, "You're right, you're right..."

I also tried to tell him that making enough for a small army isn't a great idea; I didn't say it to him, but I equated it in my mind to giving a recovering alcoholic a case or keg of beer. He also listened to this and said he would make an effort to give most of the pan of rolls away. Within the next couple days we did just that: I gave some to my pastor and my mom, and he gave some to his parents, too. We even wound up throwing a couple away when they got too old. Out of that enormous pan, I wound up eating two of the rolls, which I considered a major accomplishment.

In fact, in recent weeks I've discovered that I'm doing much, much better with foods that in the past I would consider major binge trigger foods. There is a Mennonite-run bakery and store in our county that makes the best orange iced rolls, and normally when I buy the round pan of them I scarf them all down within 48 hours, and usually feeling sick to my stomach from the fat and sugar overload. About six weeks ago I bought a pan, and they tasted great as usual, but I didn't feel the drive or compulsion to eat them all. In fact, I wound up throwing two of the rolls away when they got stale! That was a completely new experience for me.

This healthier relationship with food has been pretty far-reaching: I can take two pieces of candy out of a full box full and walk away satisfied, whereas in the past I would not be able to pull myself away and the box would be emptied in an evening. This past Saturday my mom went to the local farmer's market and showed up at my house with some Amish-made snickerdoodle cookies. Last summer she got these for me, too, and I remember going wild over them and eating a whole pack of them in a day. This time she gave me four cookies, and I still have two in the plastic container where I'm storing them. We have an ice cream place near our house that's only open from May-October. Last summer we seemed to be there every other day and I always got something, usually a big sundae loaded with tons of goodies. While my daughter still goes fairly regularly, I couldn't tell you the last time I actually got any. The ice cream's still as good, but for some reason I never seem to be in the mood for it at the times she wants to go.

A couple nights ago during Mabel's gymnastics I went to the mega-mart to stock up on essentials: contact saline, deodorant, etc. These trips used to be the big hunt for binge foods, which I would then chow down on in the car until the end of practice, and the rest would be hidden away for secret binge eating later. Two nights ago I walked through the bakery and not a single thing appealed to me. I bought my daughter some cinnamon bagels (she hates raisins and it's really hard finding cinnamon bagels without them!), and the only food-related item I got for myself was seltzer water! I did have a passing thought of, "Hmmm, what treats can I find for myself?" but it was quickly answered with a shrug of indifference and the reply that I don't really need to or want to.

Here's the thing: I'm still eating cookies and ice cream and candy; I'm not telling myself I shouldn't eat them or that I should reduce the portions. Instead I find myself enjoying the amount I do eat, when I'm in the mood for it, and then I'm quite content. I'm not feeling deprived just eating one cookie or skipping a treat entirely, and I'm not obsessing over the remaining candy, cookies, etc., that are still in the house. Sometimes I actually even forget about them! And you know what? It's such a RELIEF not to feel that way. I feel like I've had some kind of demon exorcised from my body and mind. And I'm suspecting that just maybe, this is what "normal" eating is all about.

I'm not saying I have been the "perfect" normal eater. I have had a couple days here and there where I have the munchies and the drive to overeat. But I've noticed that these incidents were times when I felt tired and run-down by too much running around or not enough sleep. So I've been trying to get more sleep and more down time to help combat this. It's great to me to be able to start putting these things together -- for years it always seemed to be such a mystery why I was so preoccupied and needed eating. To be able to pinpoint these things is wonderful to me. And hopefully, I can avoid any more binge eating episodes of weeks and months that lead to more and more weight gain and its accompanying depression.

Vacation-propelled Project

Today I tackled a project I am always procrastinating about -- uploading photos. In this digital age it's so easy to let these pictures pile up until you have hundreds lingering around on these little memory cards. I have a digital camera, my daughter has one that I use a lot, and then there's my cell phone camera, too. So I spent this morning going through all three and realizing it's been MONTHS since I've gone through them.

I've been reticent about looking at any recent photos because of my regain. But I was pleasantly surprised when I found this one at right. It was taken at Easter, when I was feeling particularly bad about myself, and honest to God, I think I look okay. Of course, this isn't a full body shot, which means I get to ignore a lot, but I can see that I still have a neck (believe me, there was a point in my life that I had a lot less of one), and that I can still look fairly decent with a little makeup, etc. The funny thing is, most of the time now I feel pretty much the same about my body as I did when I was thinner. I have certain parts of my body that bother me more than others, and they bothered me just as much if not more when I was spending all my time trying to lose weight. I don't know if I'm starting to finally learn a little self-acceptance, or if it's shoving my head in the sand and living in the land of denial, but I don't seem to detest my body as much as I used to.

The reason I finally tackled the photo backlog was our recent trip to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. We definitely had a fun time and the weather cooperated with us. I must admit I spent the majority of my beach time under an umbrella reading a good book and listening to my satellite radio (have I mentioned just how much I love Sirius? Our government needs to stop crappin' around and let them merge with XM already!). You also always find yourself people watching, and it was interesting to see the immense varieties of sizes, shapes, colors and ages you see walking around in swim suits. It makes you realize that life isn't a beauty pageant and you might as well just put the suit on and not worry about the cellulite and love handles. Isn't it better to live your life and accept yourself instead of hiding away and never venturing out because we don't meet some unrealistic standard?

Being the foodies we are, vacations have a lot to do with the meals and treats we find away from home. My husband introduced me to this crêperie on a little side street off the main strip. He and his family always went there and reveled in this French delicacy, whether it's sweet (Nutella and strawberries are my favorite), or a savory one like Hubby's ham, tomato and cheese one at right. They also sell croissants, and the big decision is whether to get the crepe or the croissant. My husband, of course, got both. I decided to go with the croissant, and I took one bite of his crepe just to try it. And while it tasted great, that one bite was enough.

In fact, my foodie tendencies were quite subdued on the whole trip. In the past, before we even left home I would stock up on a bunch of snacks for the road trip and the hotel room. This year I didn't do it for myself (although I did get some things for Hubby, daughter and her friend) and I didn't even miss it. The only thing I brought for myself was some flavored seltzer water because I know how hard it is to find in convenience stores and vending machines. Both days at the beach I did not spend the whole time thinking about what I could be eating from the boardwalk. Amazingly, both days at lunch all I ate were my daughter's leftover french fries with vinegar, and I was perfectly satisfied with that. In this instance I didn't mind eating what she left behind because they were the fries most drenched in vinegar. Yum!

I did buy some treats, but not nearly in the volume I have in the past. There's one kind of fudge I absolutely love from a candy store on the boardwalk, and normally I bring a whole pound home and eat every ounce of it. This year I decided to only get 1/4 pound. I ate it all myself, of course, but I felt just as content -- and I probably felt less sick to my stomach -- having eaten so much less.

Now, I was not a "perfect" eater; at supper time I definitely ate a lot, certainly overeating in most books, but I found myself much more particular about what I ate. I didn't clean my plate just because it was there and I didn't want to "waste" it. I was actually okay taking one or two bites of something just to savor the taste of it, and leaving the rest behind.

So I wasn't perfect. But I certainly felt a lot more "normal" about food and eating, and it was a really nice feeling. I hope it's a continuing trend.

Off to Make New Memories (and re-live old ones)

After some discussion, we finally decided to splurge a little with our rebate check and go to the beach this week. We're trying to be a little economical and go Tuesday, Wednesday and come back home Thursday, when the hotel rates are cheaper. Hopefully the beach won't be as crowded during the week, too.

We are going to Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. Since meeting my husband we've been going annually, which was fun for me because before that I hadn't gone since I was six years old. In those days my mother's cousin owned a beach house down the coast on Dewey Beach, and we (my mom, sister and I) would go down with cousins or friends while my Dad and his friends would go out west to fish for trout. This "girl trip" was always a lot of fun, even that last year when I had to go with my finger wrapped up in bandages after breaking it in a freak door-slamming accident. I can still vividly remember distracting myself while my mom changed the dressing on it (it looked pretty gross to a 6 year-old) by reading my first Wonder Woman comic book.

Sometimes I really think I have some sort of psychic abilities. I'm not saying I can foretell the future or find missing children, but there are these uncanny coincidences always seem to happen to me and the people close to me. A lot of it happens with the phone: sometimes I'll know exactly who's on the phone and what they want before I even see the Caller ID; more than once I've picked up the phone to call someone, and before I can dial the phone rings and it's them. Or I get the call through and it just so happens they were getting ready to call me.

I'm not going to go into the whole long list of incidents, but here's the most recent one. I have not talked to my dad since last Sunday, so I haven't informed him that we're going to Rehoboth. Yet this morning I checked my email and saw a message from my dad -- which is odd enough, because he rarely e-mails me -- which contained these photos. (Sorry they're small -- it's all I could download and save from Dad's email)

I had almost forgotten that my dad and his friend owned a boat called the Rusty Nail -- yeah, a real luxury yacht! -- and they kept it docked on the Indian River Inlet, which is in the Rehoboth area. That's me in the photo on the left, dressed in pink and looking like I'm on the telephone with someone. Even though it was so long ago -- in my preschool days! -- I can still remember pieces of these adventures out to sea, posing for the camera and holding a fish that was as long as I was tall, staying in our friend's camper, even the night we had a flat tire on the Bay Bridge. They were such fun times, in the days before my parents' marriage went downhill and life was still carefree and happy.

Maybe that's why I still have this fondness for these trips to Rehoboth, and I now try to create new happy memories for my daughter in this same location. Coincidentally, my husband and his family also made many summer trips to this beach, too, so we're both able to relive our childhoods through these visits. I'll try to take some photos while we're there and share them with you when we get back.

Leaving Food on the Plate

For the past two weeks I've been plugging away at this Intuitive Eating business, and I have to say it's been going pretty well. I've been reading my IE e-mails (I'm signed up for a couple yahoo forums that send me digests of posts), as well as finding some new resources online and in book form.

Here's the biggest accomplishment, and I'm willing to attribute some (if not a lot) of this to the Intuitive Eating hypnosis/meditation CD I've been listening to every night. More and more I'm able to leave food on my plate -- even throw it away!!!-- and not feel anxious, unhappy or deprived when I do it. This has been one of my biggest challenges, and it feels so liberating to be able to dump that food in the garbage and not be gripped by this compulsive need not to "waste" it.

I come from a family who shares this fear of wasting or throwing something away, just in case "you might need it later." So I know part of it is a learned belief that has been ingrained into my head all of my life. In the case of food, even if it wasn't that good, or if a certain food lost its appeal half-way through, I'd eat it all anyway because doing anything else would be (gasp!) wasteful.

But part of it, too, is the whole issue of deprivation and in turn "treating" myself with food. I have always felt that if I didn't eat everything on my plate --even if I was full or if it wasn't all that good -- I was taking comfort away from myself, in other words punishing myself.

For a long time I've been reading about changing my beliefs, which would then change my behavior (otherwise known as cognitive behavioral therapy), but it always seemed so difficult to put that theory into practice and actually believe it. But right now it all seems to be clicking. Instead of feeling deprived, I feel I'm giving myself the very best of my meal and not wasting my time -- perhaps even punishing myself ?-- with food that doesn't meet my standards.

For example, the other night we ate out for dinner. My meal came with two little rolls (2 to 2.5 inches in diameter), a dinner roll and a sticky roll. My daughter ate the dinner roll because it's her favorite. I looked at my sticky roll and noticed that the edges looked dry, but the center looked moist and tasty. In the past, not wanting to "waste," I would eat the edges first and save the best part for last. That way even though the whole thing wasn't that delicious, at least the last bite would be great.

This time, however, I picked the edges off and put them aside, and I only ate the center. My husband looked at my plate of discarded roll in a quizzical way, and I tried to explain to him that I only ate the best part and didn't bother with the rest. The best part was, I wasn't doing it because I "should" to be a good Intuitive Eater; it's what I truly believed.


The real test for me was this past July 4th weekend. I had two family picnics and a two meals out with my friends, events that have always led me to compulsive eating that left me feeling stuffed and miserable. At both picnics and the dinner party at my friend's house I was really selective on what I put on my plate. At the first picnic and the dinner party I chose to leave food on my plate and even threw it away. At the second picnic I did clean my plate, but I noticed that I picked up much less food than I usually do and did not continue to pick at things the rest of the day. At the meal out with my friends, I ordered less food than most people at the table, and I actually wound up being one of only two who brought leftovers home, which I ate today at lunch.

Throughout all of these meals/events I did not feel compelled to eat and eat and eat because it was there or because "everyone else is doing it." I by no means estimated calories or the "fattening" quotient of the food I selected. I picked what looked delicious to me, and if it wasn't, I didn't finish it.

I can't tell you if I'm losing weight. For one, I haven't weighed myself. And I don't want to, because I know it will trigger nothing but negativity whether the number's up or down. If I've gained, I'll get bummed out and feel like I'm not making "progress;" if the number's down, my perfectionism will kick in and I'll be tempted to start restricting or counting calories to do even better. Right now I'm rating my success by other means: my clothes aren't getting tighter; I don't walk away from a meal or end the day feeling stuffed and miserable; I don't feel anxious, resentful or deprived. Psychologically speaking, those are much healthier guidelines for me to follow right now.

Once I start digging into the new books and resources I've been investigating, I'll let you know what I think. Hang in there!

A Fresh Start?

I don't know if it's the birthday, the beginning of summer, three weeks of using the Intuitive Eating hypnosis CD, my PCOS medication kicking in or any combination thereof, but this week I've finally, after months and months, felt like trying to try again to become a normal eater. For the past three days I've done my best to be more conscious about my eating, as well as catching up and reviewing IE material online. So far, so good.

It could just be that I've hit rock bottom, too, and there doesn't appear to be anywhere to go but up. The past few months have been a process of realization for me. Mostly that for the past year I had simply given up and didn't care anymore -- about tackling my eating issues or even working on non-food issues. Let's face it -- I didn't care about anything, including myself. Call it depression, a breakdown, whatever; but it has definitely been an emotional, physical and spiritual trough that has left me feeling pretty lousy about myself. I have realized that this is something that isn't going away and I have to cope with for the rest of my life, just like if I was diabetic, had cancer, you name it. I will always have a tendency for depression, and I will always have to be aware that food is my biggest form of self-medication.

Maybe this is all part of a process of metamorphosis for me. Perhaps this past year has been an incubation period, and if I'm lucky, I'll break free from this cocoon I've been in and emerge as a butterfly and not a gypsy moth. I know in my IE reading it's been stated that becoming a normal eater takes time -- even years -- until one is finally free of the old diet mentality or disordered thoughts about food and emotions and the new rational beliefs become ingrained. And in many of the cases I've read about there have been periods where there is a gaining and free-for-all period before reaching a saner, more intuitive state.

I know, it's only been three days, and in the past few months I've had a week here and there of "clarity," only to fall back into my old ways again. But like emerging from that cocoon, it takes work and effort to break through, and I'm beginning to accept the fact that this is going to be a long process. In fact, I may have to work at this for the rest of my life. But I have to remember that working towards something is better than giving up and doing nothing.

By the way, I never mentioned here that after a few weeks, my neck/arm pain has pretty much gone away. Again, it's something I'm going to have to continue to keep an eye on, but for now, thank goodness, I'm not in pain.

You Live in a Zoo...

Yes, today is the day of my birth. Long long ago, longer ago than seems possible, I entered life around 6:50 a.m. EDT. Maybe that's why I'm such a morning person now.

I think I'll take this day to reflect on others who share my special day.

Garfield the cartoon strip began on this day, and so it's the cat's birthday, too. As a kid I always used to think it was cool to share this day with Garfield -- he was very popular at the time. My sister in particular really liked the cartoon and had books of the strips. At one point my mom named one of our dogs Odie after the canine that shares his home, and one of my best friend's nickname is Nermi, Garfield's sickeningly cute nemesis. I have to admit I haven't been that thrilled with the recent Garfield movies, and while the idea of the Garfield ride at Kennywood Park is nice, the ride is woefully antiquated and could use some major upgrades.


Later on I discovered that Ann Wilson of Heart also shares my birthday. I've discussed before how I've felt a kind of affinity for Ann and have found several similarities in our lives (other than her being a massively talented musician and incredible vocalist, while I'm definitely NOT). We both have sisters who are blonde, we both have adopted children, and we both have struggled with our weight. Oh yeah, we're both huge Led Zeppelin fans, too! In the one instance in my life that I got hit on by a woman at a bar I was told I looked like Ann. While the incident freaked me out a little bit, I was in the end complimented immensely by the comparison. I always felt bad in the 80s when the video directors turned her sister into a sex symbol while Ann was relegated to close-up face shots in near darkness because she didn't meet the skinny rock slut standards. (Not that Nancy is a skinny rock slut, either! I think she's great, too). But I'm glad that Ann has continued to perform and look great, no matter what her size.


Other famous people who share my birthday are Nancy Marchand (Tony Soprano's mother and Lou Grant's publisher), author Salman Rushdie, Stooge Moe Howard, Serial Mom Kathleen Turner, baseball legend Lou Gherig, Wallis Simpson, who led King Edward VIII to give up the British crown, amongst others. Phylicia Rashad is one of them, but I have to say that fact always makes me cringe, because I always detested her character as Mrs. Huxtable on The Cosby Show. I realize TV is not reality and she is probably nothing like the character she portrayed, but I guess I'm petty and superficial. And as for Paula Abdul, who's also celebrating today, I don't know what the **** is up with her!

In history, today had some highs and lows. The Rosenbergs were executed for treason; slavery was outlawed in the U.S.; Father's Day was first celebrated; the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was approved; and the F.C.C. was created.

As for my personal history, yesterday two of my girlfriends took me out for Mexican (yea strawberry margaritas!), today I'm at work, but tonight my husband and daughter are taking me out for sushi (yea California roll!). And tomorrow night we'll have cake after watching my daughter's performance in "The Princess and the Pea" as Bride #2. I can't wait!

Puzzled

mabel

I am so hooked on puzzles right now. I know, it's feeding into my OCD tendencies big time, but there are times it keeps me from overeating, so I guess it's a positive.

Will write more soon. I swear.