Have I mentioned I am dieting? Joined Weight Watchers (again)? Am being weighed in weekly, and journaling every morsel (solid and liquid) that enters my mouth?
No, I haven't? Because that would be too tedious for words, wouldn't it. Anyway, who wants to admit that when it comes to discussing muffin tops I don't mean a cakey breakfast treat.
But, it's true, I am dieting.
I have to lose the baby-gone-toddler weight I picked up with this last pregnancy and breatsfeeding-appetite-run-amok. I didn't realize, apparently, that having two children didn't mean eating for three.
This time of year is especially hard for dieters and all of us Weight Watcher folks are hitting meetings with a fragile edge and hint of desperation. We huddle in a circle and discuss how to fend off the Homemade Fudge Coworker, the Frosted Cookie Neighbor, and the worst of all: fill your plate holiday buffets with open bars.
The leader adds extra enthusiasm and hands out bravos for any little thing to boost our confidence in our ability to Keep on the Program, and not have to shamefacedly present our "opt out of weigh in" coupon.
I am down about 16 pounds with More Pounds I Don't Dare Discuss to go. I follow my mantra of one day-one-week-one pound at a time. And eat my 24 points like a good girl. In fact, let's take a moment to pause and reflect about where I am in the diet process.
In addition to the usual holiday melee, I have two kids to host birthday parties for. Forget my favorite way to de-stress---skip those mixed drinks! so many points! opt for a light beer (gug ick blech) or wine instead. Or my favorite way to avoid those little point sucking delicious foods---keep them out of my house! no! away, bad goodies! I want to eat this chopped up zucchini for a snack! I am surrounded, in my own home, which has been invaded with chips! dips! pizza! cake! and ice cream!
So, this weekend, if you see a lady in a red shirt clutching a small nylon black bag (my weight loss starter kit) don't offer any cheese puffs. I'm a recovering foodaholic, and this post is my mental anchor and that black bag is my physical anchor.
My Current Progress on the Twelve Steps of Dieting:
Step 1: Honesty
After many years of denial, I admit I am powerless over food. Food owns me. It beckons on every corner like that naughty friend you had in college who dragged you out to frat parties on the night before a test. I let food in my house, my car, and worst of all, my mouth.
Step 2: Faith
I believe in food. I believe it is delicious. I believe in grilled mahi mahi with julienned asparagus tower. I believe in steak au poivre with garlic mashed potatoes. I believe in anything called "appetizer" and beg those saintly creations to pass my faith along to the divinity known as Chocolate and his earthly son known as Dessert.
Step 3: Surrender
But I see the error of my past faith. I surrender, WW (that is Weight Watchers, not Wicked Witch). I study, review and follow your principles, and wait for you to work miracles in my life, wasitline, and wardrobe.
Step 4: Soul Searching
I search my soon-to-be polyunsaturated soul, and find it filled with bittersweet chocolate drizzled over fried ice cream on top of a caramel fudge brownie. This soul leads me into temptation, but luckily I handed myself over (Step 3) and am delivered from beautifully braised and carmelized evil.
Step 5: Integrity
I know that scale maintains the strictest of all integrity: utter cruel honesty. I model myself---to the best of my cream puff center ability---on the necessary but heartless machine that tells me whether I am moving toward gourmet satori.
Step 6: Acceptance
I accept I will always love cheese covered fries, mozarella sticks, mini quiches, and tea cakes. I accept that these tiny treats are much larger than I. I accept that I need something larger than them to help me fend off the danger they bring into my life.
Step 7: Humility
Each day I clutch my angel cake charm necklace and count my sins: two two-bite brownies instead of one, a mini sugar donut, hash browns, extra scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream...and beg forgiveness. I pray to the gods of small things such as appetizers and finger foods and the gods of large things such as pot luck dinners and holiday buffets to help me through this trial known as the Holiday Season without losing the progress I've made.
Step 8: Willingness
I'm willing to admit the harm I've done. I've harmed my thighs, rear, and tummy. I've harmed my poor black skirt that stretched out of shape. And I've harmed my children's psyche when I begin crying as they poke my muffin top and giggle, "Oooohhh doughy."
Step 9: Forgiveness
Someday I'll forgive myself for all those forays to Sonic for the Sweetheart cherry chocolate milkshakes. Someday...
Step 10: Maintenance
When I complete this diet...I'll be on it for the rest of my life...maintaining my healthy weight...
Step 11: Making Contact
And...as I Maintain for the rest of My Natural Life...I'll try to believe this is a Good Plan...that has Meaning...in some way...
Step 12: Service
And I'll keep it up, and keep it off...forever...
As you can see, I have a few steps to go. But I'm trying for true enlightenment or is that true lightenment?
Either way, each night, I fall to my knees, clutch my hands together and chant:
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want;
He maketh me to lie down on vinyl-covered gym mats.
He leadeth me to flavored calorie-free waters;
He restoreth my goals.
He diverteth me from the path of midnight snacking for my health's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the alley of the Vendors of Pastry, I will fear no weevil; for thou art with me;
My diet and exercises, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me
Spread with veggies and low-fat protein;
Thou steameth my fish in foil,
My resolve runneth over.
Surely, if I follow this living plan all the days of my life,
My hips will be slim forever.
Off to dance off the frosting I licked while preparing tomorrow's Care-A-Lot Castle cake...
By Julie Pippert
© 2006. All images and text exclusive property of Julie Pippert. Not to be used or reproduced. R.E.S.P.E.C.T that. Please. If you want to use something, write me.
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