Hot By Thirty

Confessions of a Sugar Addict

All right. I'm officially disgusted with myself. It only took about two months to admit it, but seriously, I cannot sustain a diet of sugar, sugar and more sugar. I mean, I CAN, but I WON'T. Do you hear me, Christmas cookies in my freezer?!

It started in October. The week I decided to launch Phase One of the South Beach Diet was the week I got anxious. COINCIDENCE? But I kept it up for about a week and a half. I got down to my happy Hot By Thirty weight, which was only a few pounds, but a huge psychological victory. Yay me! 

But the anxiety didn't go away, and when I hit my self-imposed time limit for Dealing On My Own, I started to Cope. And in my world, that means sugar. Cookies, bread, granola bars, chocolate, anything in batter form. And I haven't been able to stop. I haven't wanted to write about it, because, well: EMBARRASSING. But honestly, I haven't been able to stop. I made fudge a few days ago and I'm pretty sure I've eaten at least half the pan. That I stored in the freezer. FOR MY CHRISTMAS PARTY. I've eaten at least two pints of ice cream in the last couple weeks, when I'm used to thinking of ice cream as a far off distant memory. The week Phillip was gone I made cookies for the sole purpose of eating the dough. I am having to arrange my own intervention, you guys. 

Everyone says it's the time of year, but this is the time of year I've lost large amounts of weight. The time I lost twenty-five pounds before I had Jack, I started in October. Fall is the time I kicked myself into weight loss gear after having Jack. And Molly was born in September and I lost that baby weight by the end of February. I believe I can get through this time of year without bloating up into a Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. I KNOW I have Will Power of Steel. SO WHERE IS IT? 

Probably somewhere with Motivation, I think. Every time I open the freezer to dig out another piece of fudge, I sort of hate myself, but I also sort of don't care. I feel pudgier, but my clothes still fit. It's sweater season. Eh. I can work it off later. It tastes sooooo goooood. 

Sometimes I'm eating my feelings, sometimes I'm just bored, sometimes it's just the plain and simple fact that I do not have an OFF button when faced with a giant bowl of chocolate candy. My clothes still fit, but not for much longer. And I've worked too hard to let this get away from me. Thin tastes better than chocolate!

(Okay, sometimes Thin cannot compete, but you know what I mean.) 

I was talking to the FPC about what food to make for the party and I realized, for the first time, and we've been throwing Christmas parties since we got married, that I am pretty much the only one who eats nothing but sweet stuff at parties. Until last year, when the FPC got married during Christmastime, I always made something like 10 kinds of Christmas cookies. Cookies are the one produced-in-the-kitchen item I tend to not screw up, they look kind of awesome, and I could eat them all day long. But as I was telling the FPC, OTHER people tend to eat the real food, things that do not tempt me at all. Well, I'm using "real" loosely here, because the real food amounts to a lot of fried or cheesy appetizers and dips, but I'm the only one heaping her plate with CAKE. 

When I go out for Happy Hour with my friends, they order calamari and prawns and other things I'm only mildly interested in, because honestly I just want to order off the dessert menu. I roll my eyes when people complain about a chocolate dessert being too rich - I've only had one chocolate item defeat me in the Richness category, and I can tell you when and where and what it was. It's never too cold for ice cream. And if there's cake around, that's probably what I'll eat for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. 

There was a time where it was a Big Deal to eat a little bit of ice cream. A Big Deal to have a few cookies or order pasta in a restaurant. I've totally lost that mindset, and I'm not even exercising to try to make up for it. I've been running in my garage, but the treadmill is a lot easier than running outside, and because of our wonky schedules, I don't always get to use it. I suppose I should tell you that Jillian and I haven't spoken in months. OH THE GUILT.

But it's the eating thing that needs my attention. Exercise is good, but it's best if I think about exercise from the mental health side of things. It helps with weight loss, sure, but I've done it without exercising at all. And exercise won't help me learn to stop filching fudge from the freezer every half hour. 

This is why a low carb diet works for me, because it totally cuts out the stuff I overindulge in. And since I have no OFF button, I have to just quit it completely. This is why I need to get back to it, before I end up in a diabetic coma by the weekend. I just need to dig a little deeper in the motivation pit - dressing up for holiday parties? possibly going somewhere warm with my husband after Christmas? I need someone to invite me to a January wedding or something. Gah.

I may or may not use this blog for accountability purposes. WE SHALL SEE.


Awww, you're the best

Oh wow, you guys are awesome. I throw up a little random this-is-what-I-can't-stop-thinking-about-brain-vomit on ye olde blog on a Sunday morning of all times and you're all YAY CHEERLEADING YOU CAN DOOOO IT! So I am anxious as all get out BUT I AM OPTIMISTIC!

(This is my problem, though. So much optimism I don't know when to give up. AHEM.) 

Anyway! Right after I posted that I hunted down the Treadmill Fix It People on Craigslist and emailed them. I totally get what you said about making Phillip do it and honestly? That's how I roll. However. Grad school really throws a wrench into the division of labor around here and I really hate adding One More Thing to his plate. Especially when this year he's responsible for so much more at his real job, ie: the one that means I get to stay home and run on treadmills, and there is no extra day off and he's constantly dealing with Work Email and Work Phone Calls and now we've got Dreaded Group Projects and you see how I don't want to ADD to that. I mean, if I'm going to ADD to it it's going to be the kind of phone call where I want him to get twenty bucks knocked off our cell phone bill. Or something. Because God knows if I made that phone call we'd end up paying twenty bucks MORE. 

(Have I told you about my boss from several jobs ago who had me make a bunch of fund raising-ish phone calls and then actually asked me to STOP because I was so BAD at it? Not to mention about to die of stress? YEAH.)

Okay, so hopefully the treadmill people get back to me AND magically fix my treadmill (we have major belt slippage going on) because OBVIOUSLY that is the best option. 

I would LIKE to be a gym-goer because I like the idea of Me Time and doing different stuff like weights or kickboxing (I think I would really like kickboxing) and I think my kids (kid) would even be happy in gym childcare. I think Jen makes a good point about the gym being on the WAY. That wouldn't work here, since preschool is literally two minutes down the road and all I pass are coffee shops, a grocery store and I swear to God a gourmet doughnut shop. (ODDS: STACKED AGAINST.) However, you forget I live in the city and there are gyms THREE minutes away. So it's possible. And if I had a designated TIME, like preschool or a babysitter I'm pretty sure I could hack it. HOWEVER. The only thing I really want to do, the only thing I feel is the most BENEFICIAL, is running, and that I can do for free. I am scared of Gym Sales Dudes and while I can handle a One Time Only Chunk of Change I am not ready to commit to another Monthly Fee. I consider it because anything I can do to combat anxiety is worth a whole lot to me, but I have other options. 

I would LIKE to be a stroller jogger, but I don't know. I suppose I should try it and see if I like it. But honestly? It really doesn't appeal to me. I know that's how all the moms do it, and my friends who train for long distances can't live without them, but I'm just wanting to get out there three miles at a time (or 2.8, right Maureen?) because it appears that that is enough distance/time to make things right in my head AND kick the ass of Writer's Block and it seems like I should be able to find a half hour to myself. Jack is horrible in the stroller ("too windy!" "too sunny!" "I want a SNACK Mommy" "I want that pinecone!" "Mollymoo needs a flower too!" "Are we going to the playground? I want to go to the PLAYGROUND!") so that just sounds like a drag. Molly, I think, would be happy. And pushing one kid doesn't sound quite as strenuous as pushing two. Which is why I think I WOULD like to find a single jogger with a rain cover (DEAR SANTA?) because I've found that I DO like to run outdoors. And sometimes I feel like running outside when I have kids, as opposed to totally NOT wanting to run outside when I have the time. Seems like I should take advantage of every opportunity, yes?

But we are shooting for a Fixed Treadmill first. Fingers crossed. 

Anyway, I know this is just a rehash of what I wrote earlier, but I SO wanted to tell you how I SO appreciate you GETTING IT. I just feel like the routine/life I had when I first started this whole regular exercise endeavor is completely different, what with preschool and no napping and Grad School and now I have to figure out a new system. I have to find that spot between Doing What Is Good For Me and Doing What I Can Actually Pull Off. 


If you can figure out what this is about you get a pony

In one and a half weeks of 75% Throttle Potty Training, Molly has informed me that she needs to go potty BEFORE she actually GOES potty exactly, oh, NONE TIMES. If I am taking her to sit on the potty, by which I mean bribing her to sit on the potty, every fifteen to twenty minutes, all is well. She goes. No one has to do any laundry or Resolve a carpet. Everyone is happy. And she'll go anywhere, even if you don't have a sticker or a cookie in your purse. But if I have to make dinner? Or I forget? Or it just doesn't cross my mind in time? Yeah. Laundry. Moaning and groaning. A cheery little girl with wet pants chirping, "I go POTTY Mommy!" 

So my question to you is: do I keep going? Or do I go back to diapers and try again later? If you suggest I go 100% Full Speed Potty Training Ahead, then I will suggest that you haven't been reading that long and have yet to understand the true depths of my laziness. In other words: 100% for longer than, say, an afternoon, is unlikely to happen. I'M JUST BEING HONEST. We have to leave the house on occasion! And I often get sucked into the internet and forget where I AM!

Okay. Whatever. That's out of my system. Now I will tell you about how we drove to The Suburbs tonight to check out a Ginormous House that costs the same as a two bedroom hovel in my current neighborhood AND IT WASN'T THERE. Either the address is wrong or it hasn't been built yet or SOMETHING. But it was annoying. If I'm going to Hem and Haw over Ginormous Brand New House vs. Living In The City And Being My Most Authentic Self, I need tangible evidence for both realities. BAH. 

And you are saying to yourselves: wait, her lease isn't up till APRIL! And they were going to wait until Phillip was done with school! And decide on a neighborhood THEN! But I say to you: YOU try not refreshing Redfin every hour when you are in the position of Picking Anywhere You Want For Your New Place To Live. 

Oh, let's not go there either, that is one enormous post, no, a SERIES of enormous posts that I am disinclined to write at the moment. Most of my energies are currently being tasked with Not Microwaving The Microwave Popcorn because (EYE ROLL) I reverted back to the South Beach Diet at the beginning of the week and mini bag 100 calorie popcorn, which is only one Weight Watcher point, is not allowed if you are low carbing it. LAME. But you know what? I've already lost two pounds this week and Weight Watchers points can suck it. 

No, let's divert my energies to explaining what I think is My Weight Loss Rule of Thumb, which is: Stop Cramming So Much In Your Mouth For The Love of Grilled Cheese. Because DUDE. Just because the brownies were made with whole wheat flour and applesauce does not mean you are allowed to eat the entire pan. (WHICH I DID. THAT ONE TIME. FOR SERIOUS.)

SO ANYWAY. TECHNICALLY I've been doing Weight Watchers in my attempts to Maintain, but whatever, I am just breezing over those point values and paying for features I never use and blah blah blah. So I cancelled my account and dug out my South Beach book and TWO POUNDS, people. But it's not because Weight Watchers = doesn't work and South Beach = works, it's because 1) you gain weight when you eat too much and 2) the only things I really eat too much of are BREAD and COOKIES. I did my best with the cookies, but you may have heard my endeavors with baking bread this summer. YEEEEEEEAH. (Oh, also pasta. Pasta is low fat! Eat a lot! Wait! Not THAT much! Hey! Slow down! Aaaaauuuggghhh!)

I have a feeling this post would be a lot more interesting and coherent if I'd actually seen the house I was interested in tonight. LAME.

No really. Would you still love me if I moved to the suburbs? Mom? Anyone? SIGH.


A link and a grump

I wrote about arguing in front of the kids at Parenting today. Because apparently I am on some crusade to detail the worst aspects of my parenting career online. AKA couldn't think of anything else to write. Bah. 

I decided Phillip might be tired of my various attempts at low fat cooking, so last night for his birthday dinner I made one of his favorites, spaghetti carbonara, which is pretty much ALL fat. (Delicious delicious FAAAAT. Mmm!) I made a giant loaf of bread and the FPC brought an angel food cake and smothered it with whipped cream. It was a feast, it was delicious and I wish, I really really REALLY WISH that I wasn't totally fighting with myself this morning to step on the scale and check out the damage. Because, honestly, I've been doing that all summer long and it's exhausting and frustrating and bums me out EVEN THOUGH MY CLOTHES STILL FIT. Why can't I be one of those people who's all, "Gee, the pants are getting a smidge tight, better put back that cookie!" but in the meantime NOT CARE?

GRUMP.