Thursday, March 31, 2011

Vegetables are what Food eats

I'm working with a nutritionist to revamp my diet. Today was day one. The rules are pretty simple. No sugar, no carbs, no dairy. As many vegetables, eggs, beans, chicken, fish, and Ezekiel bread I can manage. As a Texan I was raised with the belief that vegetables were fabulous . . . for feeding up the animals we would later barbecue. My mom always made the requisite side green, and often a meal had a side salad, or as an appetizer. But never the whole meal. Until now.

So today is Day 1. I headed to Whole Foods and loaded up on organic fixings. I piled up an enormous salad for lunch. Arugala, butter lettuce, carrots, green beans, clover sprouts, tomatoes, broccoli slaw, half a chicken breast. After the preschoolers swarmed I still ate enough to feed all of Watership Down. And afterwards it was as if I had eaten nothing at all. Arg!

Excuse me, waiter, there seems to be a rabbit in my salad
Pic from the Flickr stream of Carly Lesser & Art Drauglis

"You'll be hungry because you aren't filling up on empty calories," he said. "You can eat more salad, or a piece of fruit to mix things up."

So now I am envisioning a future where I'm splitting my time between washing and checking vegetables (for bugs) and grazing. Moo.

No more quick quesadillas or rice and beans for lunch. No oatmeal or cottage cheese for breakfast. No lattes, homemade or Starbucks. No snacking on cheese or grabbing a few pretzels. Can I do it? I'm not sure.

It reminds me of the first Pesach I tried to keep. My friend and I were aflame with the fervor only a newly minted Baal Teshuva (new returner to Judaism) can manage. We knew that we couldn't eat bread and grain products for the week. In the university dining service that left us with only the salad bar for nutrition. For three meals a day. After three days I called my rabbi and between bawling, sniffling, and tummy rumbling I announced that we were dying. It was unnatural to only eat salad 3 meals a day. I felt weak, hungry, and my fire was dimming with each leafy bite. I didn't know if I could continue. The rabbi and his wife came to the rescue within the hour with platters of chicken, potato kugel, and other real food. Our Pesach was saved, our flame simmered on.

But no one will be riding to my rescue now. I won't have religious conviction to keep me from cheating or quitting. I'm not sure if the monetary loss invested in the nutritionist & the specialty foods will be enough. Please G-d there will be some results. If I'm gonna be eating rabbit food, I'd better see a little more bounce in my step!

I'm working with a nutritionist to revamp my diet. Today was day one. The rules are pretty simple. No sugar, no carbs, no dairy. As many vegetables, eggs, beans, chicken, fish, and Ezekiel bread I can manage. As a Texan I was raised with the belief that vegetables were fabulous . . . for feeding up the animals we would later barbecue. My mom always made the requisite side green, and often a meal had a side salad, or as an appetizer. But never the whole meal. Until now.


So today is Day 1. I headed to Whole Foods and loaded up on organic fixings. I piled up an enormous salad for lunch. Arugala, butter lettuce, carrots, green beans, clover sprouts, tomatoes, broccoli slaw, half a chicken breast. After the preschoolers swarmed I still ate enough to feed all of Watership Down. And afterwards it was as if I had eaten nothing at all. Arg!

Excuse me, waiter, there seems to be a rabbit in my salad
Pic from the Flickr stream of Carly Lesser & Art Drauglis

"You'll be hungry because you aren't filling up on empty calories," he said. "You can eat more salad, or a piece of fruit to mix things up."

So now I am envisioning a future where I'm splitting my time between washing and checking vegetables (for bugs) and grazing. Moo.

No more quick quesadillas or rice and beans for lunch. No oatmeal or cottage cheese for breakfast. No lattes, homemade or Starbucks. No snacking on cheese or grabbing a few pretzels. Can I do it? I'm not sure.

It reminds me of the first Pesach I tried to keep. My friend and I were aflame with the fervor only a newly minted Baal Teshuva (new returner to Judaism) can manage. We knew that we couldn't eat bread and grain products for the week. In the university dining service that left us with only the salad bar for nutrition. For three meals a day. After three days I called my rabbi and between bawling, sniffling, and tummy rumbling I announced that we were dying. It was unnatural to only eat salad 3 meals a day. I felt weak, hungry, and my fire was dimming with each leafy bite. I didn't know if I could continue. The rabbi and his wife came to the rescue within the hour with platters of chicken, potato kugel, and other real food. Our Pesach was saved, our flame simmered on.

But no one will be riding to my rescue now. I won't have religious conviction to keep me from cheating or quitting. I'm not sure if the monetary loss invested in the nutritionist & the specialty foods will be enough. Please G-d there will be some results. If I'm gonna be eating rabbit food, I'd better see a little more bounce in my step!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Losing sleep over 2nd Hand Worries

Have you ever had an enormous "Duh!?" moment when you figure out the cause of a problem was something obvious or at least fixable while you rushed around trying complicated solutions?

I just had a moment like that this week. After months of seeing doctors for pain and being diagnosed with arthritis while still comfortably on the foot of that big hill called "the late 20s," I've found a culprit to pin it on. Now there is more than one reason, take 15 years of dance damage, years of high heels to boost my 5'1'' height, slouching (sorry mom!), two births, and not enough lifting with the legs and anyone would be hurting at least a little. But for the amount of pain I've been in, there was more.

Four doctors and 6 months didn't bring an answer. I had a flash of brilliance one morning sitting in my bed. My bed which is really a mattress and box spring on the floor. A mattress and box spring we were given 2 years ago. Two years ago when my parents friends were redoing their bedroom furniture. Every piece of furniture in my bedroom is a hand-me-down. And apparently my back could handle a used dresser, but the used mattress had sprung it's last spring.

I don't think I've had a new mattress since I was a toddler and got my first bed (which is currently in the kiddos room). I don't know what a new mattress feels like! The definitive test came when I slept last night on the newest mattress in the house. A year old Ikea special. I woke up with a bit more bounce, and considering I'm not a morning person, that's not bad.

I buy second hand everything apart from undergarments & kitchen utensils. I think I'm going to be adding mattresses to that small list. The fact that something free, that didn't seem so bad had been causing so much trouble is disturbing. Wouldn't a bad mattress feel bad? I thought it would, how wrong I was! How can you gauge the life a second hand find has left in it? How can you be sure a bargain will be all it's cracked up to be? Unlike the salvation army finds languishing in my closet in the "seemed like a good idea at the time" section, this "treasure" was every man's trash.

Even scarier, I read an article (never Google while under duress) about obesity and poor sleep. I'm resisting the urge to throw out all the mattresses in the house and get new ones. This seems like overreacting, but when I tell you that the oldest mattress is at least 20 years old, and the others are of indeterminant age, you'll forgive my fervor.

First the bed bug scare, now back pain. I won't be discouraged from foraging, thrifting, or curb hunting, but I've definitely learned the hard way that sometimes you do have to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Have you ever had an enormous "Duh!?" moment when you figure out the cause of a problem was something obvious or at least fixable while you rushed around trying complicated solutions?


I just had a moment like that this week. After months of seeing doctors for pain and being diagnosed with arthritis while still comfortably on the foot of that big hill called "the late 20s," I've found a culprit to pin it on. Now there is more than one reason, take 15 years of dance damage, years of high heels to boost my 5'1'' height, slouching (sorry mom!), two births, and not enough lifting with the legs and anyone would be hurting at least a little. But for the amount of pain I've been in, there was more.

Four doctors and 6 months didn't bring an answer. I had a flash of brilliance one morning sitting in my bed. My bed which is really a mattress and box spring on the floor. A mattress and box spring we were given 2 years ago. Two years ago when my parents friends were redoing their bedroom furniture. Every piece of furniture in my bedroom is a hand-me-down. And apparently my back could handle a used dresser, but the used mattress had sprung it's last spring.

I don't think I've had a new mattress since I was a toddler and got my first bed (which is currently in the kiddos room). I don't know what a new mattress feels like! The definitive test came when I slept last night on the newest mattress in the house. A year old Ikea special. I woke up with a bit more bounce, and considering I'm not a morning person, that's not bad.

I buy second hand everything apart from undergarments & kitchen utensils. I think I'm going to be adding mattresses to that small list. The fact that something free, that didn't seem so bad had been causing so much trouble is disturbing. Wouldn't a bad mattress feel bad? I thought it would, how wrong I was! How can you gauge the life a second hand find has left in it? How can you be sure a bargain will be all it's cracked up to be? Unlike the salvation army finds languishing in my closet in the "seemed like a good idea at the time" section, this "treasure" was every man's trash.

Even scarier, I read an article (never Google while under duress) about obesity and poor sleep. I'm resisting the urge to throw out all the mattresses in the house and get new ones. This seems like overreacting, but when I tell you that the oldest mattress is at least 20 years old, and the others are of indeterminant age, you'll forgive my fervor.

First the bed bug scare, now back pain. I won't be discouraged from foraging, thrifting, or curb hunting, but I've definitely learned the hard way that sometimes you do have to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Being Prepared: Less Girl Scout, more MacGuyver

So I've generally learned from the fable of the grasshopper and the ant. I pack lunches the night before. I make lists AND check them twice. I have contingency plans coming out of my wazoo, plus plans for what to do in case of catastrophic wazoo failure, cuz you never know!

But this weekend has seen me unprepared and floundering not once, not twice, but three glorious bouts of "Why did I get myself into this situation!?"

The first was a common scenario in my kitchen. I am halfway through a recipe before I realize I don't have enough of a key ingredient. Well, lets just say I now know that my healthy chocolate muffins can be delicious even without full quantities of flax seed (oops), cocoa powder (doh!), and orange juice (for pete's sake!). I scrounged up substitutes and by the end was just flinging stuff in since they were so far from the recipe, why not? Thank G-d, it's apparently a forgiving recipe!

Next was this morning while dressing my children in their Purim costumes for the local carnival. Yes it's a week before Purim, but I was PREPARED! My mother had bought the kids costumes from the after-Halloween sales. See where I learn my preparedness? I didn't have to worry about looking for costumes, scrounging up bits and bobs. Until this morning when I realized RE had grown in the past 4mos and couldn't squeeze into his costume no matter how much squishing, praying, or cajoling I tried. Great. A well stocked dress up chest came to the rescue and he was more than happy with the results. The small costume will be donated to a smaller friend.

Then I grab my "costume." I don't really dress up for modesty reasons. I could go on a tangent about this, but I'm posting about my incompetence, something even modesty can't save me from. I had been saving a vintage jacket my mom handed down for just such an occasion. It's flashy enough for Purim without screaming "look at me I'm dressed up as a character." I tried it on, and it fit. Phew! Except . . . . that it was missing 2 buttons, in high profile places. So while my children were waiting in their coats & shoes (no small accomplishment as other mothers know), removed the remaining buttons and sewed all new buttons down the blasted beautiful thing.

Obviously my wailing "How did I get myself into this?" is easily answered with "By not preparing, duh!" but how much more prepared can I afford to be? Considering it's a week before Purim, a little unpreparedness now means we're already set for next week barring any unforseen accidents, emergencies, or mixups. Of course being the mother of preschoolers is all about the accidents, emergencies and mixups, so being able to tuck and roll or MacGuyver my way out is the answer. And I do love me some MacGuyver!

So I've generally learned from the fable of the grasshopper and the ant. I pack lunches the night before. I make lists AND check them twice. I have contingency plans coming out of my wazoo, plus plans for what to do in case of catastrophic wazoo failure, cuz you never know!


But this weekend has seen me unprepared and floundering not once, not twice, but three glorious bouts of "Why did I get myself into this situation!?"

The first was a common scenario in my kitchen. I am halfway through a recipe before I realize I don't have enough of a key ingredient. Well, lets just say I now know that my healthy chocolate muffins can be delicious even without full quantities of flax seed (oops), cocoa powder (doh!), and orange juice (for pete's sake!). I scrounged up substitutes and by the end was just flinging stuff in since they were so far from the recipe, why not? Thank G-d, it's apparently a forgiving recipe!

Next was this morning while dressing my children in their Purim costumes for the local carnival. Yes it's a week before Purim, but I was PREPARED! My mother had bought the kids costumes from the after-Halloween sales. See where I learn my preparedness? I didn't have to worry about looking for costumes, scrounging up bits and bobs. Until this morning when I realized RE had grown in the past 4mos and couldn't squeeze into his costume no matter how much squishing, praying, or cajoling I tried. Great. A well stocked dress up chest came to the rescue and he was more than happy with the results. The small costume will be donated to a smaller friend.

Then I grab my "costume." I don't really dress up for modesty reasons. I could go on a tangent about this, but I'm posting about my incompetence, something even modesty can't save me from. I had been saving a vintage jacket my mom handed down for just such an occasion. It's flashy enough for Purim without screaming "look at me I'm dressed up as a character." I tried it on, and it fit. Phew! Except . . . . that it was missing 2 buttons, in high profile places. So while my children were waiting in their coats & shoes (no small accomplishment as other mothers know), removed the remaining buttons and sewed all new buttons down the blasted beautiful thing.

Obviously my wailing "How did I get myself into this?" is easily answered with "By not preparing, duh!" but how much more prepared can I afford to be? Considering it's a week before Purim, a little unpreparedness now means we're already set for next week barring any unforseen accidents, emergencies, or mixups. Of course being the mother of preschoolers is all about the accidents, emergencies and mixups, so being able to tuck and roll or MacGuyver my way out is the answer. And I do love me some MacGuyver!