The Dreaded D Word

When I was a child, I frequently witnessed my mom and her friends grimacing as they sipped their Tab soda. It was diet after all. And diet didn't mean tastes good. Diet in the 1970s meant suffering, depriving yourself of what you really wanted, and just generally changing your eating habits drastically. It involved large quantities of iceberg lettuce, coffee, and for an occasional treat, cottage cheese. And it had a beginning and an end. "I'm dieting." "I'm off my diet." "I need to start my diet." These were all frequent phrases in their conversations.


I knew that diet equated to tastes bad (I had sipped my mom's Tab and made the same grimace that she and her friends did), so all she had to do was say something was diet and I steered clear. I remember, as clear as it was yesterday, when on a trip to the neighborhood corner store, mom grabbed a Heath candy bar and told me it was diet. Because of my past experiences, I was sixteen years old before I ever tried one--and that toffee goodness definitely wasn't "diet" food. We still laugh about how she had just wanted a treat all to herself and didn't think her comment would affect me for so long.


In a lot of ways, this word, diet, still gives the impression of suffering, deprivation, or all out starvation required to lose weight. And it's just not like that. It really doesn't have to be. Following Weight Watchers, as I have been since last October, I've relearned how to fuel my body. And, in the process, I haven't deprived myself of anything.


That said, I have learned how to plan for treats--workout more, save my weekly Flex Points, or eat less, or eat MORE zero Points foods to balance it out.


It makes me laugh to see people diet because that's not at all what I'm doing. I really have changed my lifestyle, but I don't feel deprived and I really don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. We all know the carb cutters, the glycemic index people, Jenny Craig followers, LA Slim or whatever it's called people. Most of them are back, "dieting again." I've never tried any of those diets. I know they don't work and my time spent on them will just be wasted.

Those of us with the chubby challenge need a whole new education on eating to be successful. It isn't even necessarily that we've eaten more than your average skinny chick, in fact, for many of us this is just not the case. It's that we were cursed with an efficient metabolism that requires fewer calories to run than the skinny chicks (so, we're better at something anyway!) It never has been that they're just smarter nutritionally or make better choices than we do. Never. Realizing that has been such a great source of peace for me.

So, when I speak with someone who's dieting, I just wonder why. The secret to weight loss really isn't a secret at all, but simply a truth that you have to live every day: eating sensibly and being physically active every day for the rest of your life. That's it in a nutshell. Anything else, any diet with a beginning and end, will not work.

Fat Rant

It occurred to me this morning that my son and most of my friends, all my neighbors, and everyone that I've met since moving back home have never known me any other way except fat. It bothers me the most to know that my son has only known me this way, not that it's affected him terribly, except for those times that I wasn't able to keep up with him physically (oh the shame of that!). Kids just want love and attention and as long as you provide that, they're fine-- and I have provided that and then some. But you know that it's true that kids will learn more from your example than anything you could ever say. So, have I started him down a terrible path towards obesity? Have I, by this example, doomed him to the same struggles with weight that I have? Or have I, by providing this new, healthier life, imprinted over that old example?

I wonder, also, if everyone basically thinks of me as that big girl. Or if they describe me to people, say as if they needed to separate me in a crowd at a party, they'd say, "she's the chubby one over there." I never really thought about it before, because my own thoughts have often been very negative in describing myself, I guess I didn't need to go any further. I more times than not think of myself as fat first and then whatever other adjective after. So, the fat, funny girl. The fat, smart chick. The fat, mom. The fat, friend. The fat, wife. The fat, writer. The fat... Is that the first adjective that others have used to describe me too?

Hmmmm.

Declaration of Independence

Officially, my job as a parent has an objective and that is to make sure my son is equipped with the ability to live on his own. I must make sure that he is constantly challenged with independence. And while that might sound like a huge challenge, it really isn't. I mean, kids come with this inner drive to be independent. Ask any mother of a two year old and she'll laugh when you talk about her little one saying, "I can do it myself." And she'll roll her eyes if you ask her how long it took her little sprite to get herself dressed that morning (and most likely, the conversation will lead to just how long her kiddo has been wearing her brother's Batman costume and rain boots.)

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that Young One is a pretty independent kid. Now, this does come with a price, as in, cleaning up the kitchen (with his help, of course) after he's successfully splattered Chicken Noodle-Os all over the stove, counter, and floor. But, he had to learn how to not make a mess and the best way to learn that lesson is to have to clean up one of your own in the first place!

At this point in his rearing (a strange word, if I do say so myself), I've realized that it would take MORE work to do for him than it does to have him do something himself. So, perhaps we've turned a bit of a corner. Our relationship now is more about guidance, friendship, and laundry. I guide, we hang out together, and he produces a lot of laundry. Actually, he helps with the laundry too, so that's not even that bad.

I know a lot of parents who won't let their kids grow independent and I wonder what price this smothering has on their children. Is it that they need to be needed, need to guarantee that they have this job called parenting. Is it that they can't stand the thought of the messes that might initially result from independent exploration in the kitchen or that their kid just might not get the bathtub as sparkling clean as they can? Or worse yet, that they might suffer some freak accident, getting soap in their eyes or cutting themselves on a butter knife? These things may all very well happen, but they may not, as my dear old dad used to say.

As parents, we give roots and wings to our kids. Sometimes the wings are harder to give. I'll admit, that only having one child, I don't have room for mistakes (not like you think of your kids as spares, but I have only one chance to do this job). So, I can be a little overprotective when it comes to independent voyages to the men's room or riding his bike alone to a friend's house. But, when it comes to independent life skills, I'm all over it. Fly, Young One, fly. I'd much rather stand back and watch him succeed after many failures than fail to let him succeed.

The Five

Sight

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

I can't believe I've never read any of Capote's work, at least, not that I can remember. Maybe at some point in college, but those English classes were so easy compared to all my other coursework, I'm not surprised they didn't leave a lasting impression. I found this book riveting. Everyone I spoke with about the book claimed to be terrified while reading it. I suppose, maybe at the time it was written it was shocking, but it wasn't as terrifying as say, Law and Order or CSI. Alas, we've been desensitized! Anyway, this is the true story of the murder of an family in Kansas. Not just the story of the murder, but the story of the murderers too. I did find myself sympathizing with the murderers, Capote did a great job of that. What was so riveting was his descriptions, the suspenseful build of what you knew was the inevitable. Saying I loved the book seems trite, trivializing the subject matter. Love isn't a word that should be used when reviewing this book. I found it fascinating, riveting, and mesmerizing, the pages called to me and I had to stay up to read it's conclusion. I would definitely say it's a must read, but leave yourself time to really immerse yourself in it. It's not a book that should be stopped and started, but read through as much as you possibly can.

Sound

Life Death Love and Freedom John Mellencamp

Really quite brilliant. I've been a long time fan. This was worth waiting for.

Scent

Freshly brewed coffee in our new Breville Single-Serve Coffee Maker. So, our Cuisinart coffee pot died, not being that old, and I did a ton of research trying to figure out the best replacement for it. I knew I wasn't going to get another Cuisinart--I just wasn't happy with our past experiences. So, I really wanted an automatic espresso machine, but I couldn't justify the price. Maybe one day and maybe for a gift, but not today. I never thought I would want one of these single serve coffee makers. I found the pod versions to be intriguing, but not quite there. This one got me. The sealed K Cups keep coffee very fresh, right until the point of brewing. The filter pods were too open and allowed coffee to get stale, not to mention, they just didn't produce a great tasting cup of coffee. So, after reading countless reviews, we chose this one. And after getting to see it in action at Williams Sonoma (and on You Tube, you gotta love that!). We were sold. We waste much less coffee now and we both can choose what we want for blend or flavor. Plus, Young One can make his own hot chocolate with the touch of a button and he intends to do some experimenting with using the hot water to quickly make hot cereals for breakfast.

It's such a great gadget. Fill the reservoir with water, set the clock and timer for when you'd like the water hot (there's a start and end time so it shuts off when you don't need it anymore). If you do want to bypass this set time, you can always just turn it on. It takes less than 3 minutes to heat water. Then pop in a K Cup or fill your My K Cup (a little reusable filter cup), chose the size cup you want, and brew away.

You will need to play around with the strength, the type of coffee, etc to get the perfect cup. So far, I've really enjoyed some Italian Roast, both hot and iced. The Kona is a blend, so I'll stick with grinding my own beans when I want a taste of Hawaii! Environmentally, I don't like throwing away the K Cups, so I pull them apart and recycle the foil top and the cup. Clean up is simple and the really large reservoir makes a lot of cups, so you don't have to refill very often.

Definitely a great addition to our home.

Taste

Definitely coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

Touch

Our new gadget. And tons of tomatoes from the garden. Yum!

We Couldn't Wait for Peach Season

I love my Grandma. Nope, it's deeper than that, everyone says they love their grandma. I adore her. She and I are really good friends. I think it started when Grandpa died. Grandma was completely lost. She didn't know what to do with herself. To sum it up, she died when he did and it took a while for her to learn how to be without him. She had been married since she was fifteen years old. She and Grandpa were the epitome of a long lasting love. It's just too bad that it didn't last as long as it should have.

Anyway, I don't want to get into the sadness of the story. I want to talk more about Grandma and my relationship. Because she was all alone, she was with our family all the time. We saw her several times a week, I stayed with her when my parents took much needed vacations, and best of all, she traveled with us. I clearly remember the first trip we took with Grandma. Grandpa had been gone just a short time and she was still fragile and shell shocked. Grandma was having trouble sleeping and nothing seemed to help. So, to assist her in trying to get some shut eye, my mom had purchased a six pack of wine coolers. There Grandma and I were, roommates in a Best Western, she sipping wine coolers while we watched Risky Business together. I suppose other grandchildren would have been mortified, but Grandma and I laughed through the whole movie. I don't know if it was the wine coolers, but she doesn't remember this evening. It's burned in my memory and makes me smile every time I think about it. And I can't look at Tom Cruise without laughing.

Throughout my time with her, Grandma has shared stories about growing up in the Depression. The last time we were chatting, I mentioned to her that I had a bowl of fresh peaches on the counter that I was going to grill for dessert. She thought that sounded intriguing, then she got quiet, and she said, "We couldn't wait for peach season." I was sure that she would then launch into a story about how they didn't have the wonderful produce availability that we're fortunate to have, that they would eat peaches while the juice ran down their chins, that Great-grandma would can peaches for the winter... I waited for a quaint little story that I could file away as another pleasant memory.

Nope, that's not what I got. Grandma sighed deeply and then she said, "We just loved to take those peach wrappers into the outhouse. By peach season, we had used up all of the non-shiny pages of the Sears catalogue." It was silent for another moment and then, we laughed so hard that I had to hang up, wipe my tears, take a breath and call her back.

I guess I can file that one under, just one more way that Grandma taught me to be thrifty. But, no, I'm not going there Grandma. Better yet, it's one more way that Grandma has taught me that I have it much better than she did back in the day. In her honor, I'd like to share this recipe with you.

Grilled Peaches

One peach per person

nonstick cooking spray

Two squares of Hershey's or Dove chocolate per person

A smidgen of light butter, maybe a 1/4 tsp per peach half-- you could use Butter Buds

I hope this makes sense. I'm highly caffeinated due to a new coffeemaker that I just love and my mind is racing faster than my fingers.

Preheat your grill over medium high heat. Make sure that your grill grates are very clean. Inside the house, prep your peaches. Wash, dry, cut in half, and remove pits. Place on a plate, cut side up, and spray lightly with nonstick spray. (Don't do this near the grill, the aerosol oil near an open flame is just an invitation for a disaster.) Place place peaches cut side down and grill for four minutes. Turn cut side up and grill another four minutes. Place a smidgen of butter and one square of chocolate in each peach half. Shut the grill cover and shut the grill off. Let stand for one minute. Serve as is, one whole peach per person, or with some low calorie vanilla bean ice cream or frozen yogurt.

Oh My Wordle!

I just love this find. http://www.wordle.net/ Of course a writer like me is gonna love to play with words. Here's my latest creation: Click on the picture to see it larger and to start playing yourself!

In Gratitude

~For an evening alone, just when I thought I couldn't handle one more description of Guitar Hero or Spiderman 2, the game.

~For the ability to listen to books online for free through our library system. Oh, I love modern technology.

~For my sleeping, elderly dog sitting next to me. I love ya, Pip, especially when you snore and chase squirrels in your sleep.

~For abundance. We have so much, I never want to forget that I am very very lucky.

~For a husband who agrees with me that we can't take it with us and that we'd better spend it on experiences and not things.

~For a son who loves Guitar Hero and Spiderman 2 so much that I get to hear about it (yes, I'm feeling guilty about the first item on this list)

~For Stephen King. You scare the crap out of me, but listening to your book right now, I'm loving every minute of it.

~For my garden, my copper swirly sprinkler providing background music to my evening as it waters.

~For Wint-O-Green Lifesavers. First of all, your name is simply brilliant, and second, a candy that actually sparks when you bite it is just cool (go into a dark room with a mirror and check it out--I remember crazily giggling while doing this with some of my sorority sisters--oh, another admission that has a long story behind it!)

~For my fellow bloggers. I feel a kindred spirit. I need to write more than I need to be read. Thank you, though, for reading.