Obligatory Whining

I love not dieting. I do. And I am a bit shocked that it's not taking any effort to eat vegetables or salads, because--shocker--I like them. There is a but, though.

I never imagined letting myself have full reign over what I eat, without consulting anyone else about it, would be so hard. On the surface this seemed great--the aforementioned freedom from consulting books on what I should eat, no running on a treadmill unless I wanted to (that's not going to happen). Just freedom.

Have you ever seen "The Shawshank Redemption?" Where the prisoners talk about getting out and committing another crime to get back in because they're lost without the structure of prison? That's the closest example I can think of for this feeling. I want the freedom but I'm scared of it, too. I have no idea what I want to eat 90% of the time, good or bad. Some days after I've been staring hungrily into the refrigerator for half an hour, trying to decide between one thing and another but not really wanting any of it, I feel like collapsing to the floor in a gibbering mess, rocking back and forth until a nice orderly comes and puts me back in my room.

One thing that I always used to do was make lists of weight-related goals. Eat eight servings of fruits and vegetables each day--and the good ones, too, not potatoes and corn. Exercise six days a week at least an hour a day. Weights three times a week. Don't eat more than X calories. And so on and so forth. At first I didn't miss that; now I do. I have goals for other parts of my life, but I have had to follow a plan for eating for so long that I feel like something's missing now. And it sucks, not because I really want the lists back (I don't) but because it's making me feel like any decision I make is the wrong one.

There's also this guilt I have because I still want to lose weight. I still read diet articles and watch diet shows. I still weigh myself, although the number on the scale no longer makes me want to delve headfirst back into disordered eating. I accept that dieting is unnecessary and almost certainly harmful to my body, but I can't accept the weight I'm at now. (For the record, I am about 65 pounds overweight, and that number is based on what I consider to be my set point.) So does that make me a SA fraud? I don't know. I wish I did.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Things I have accomplished today: rearranged furniture, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed said kitchen floor, fixed a curtain rod, painted a table. Things I wanted to do today but did not get done: go to gym, eat low-calorie foods.

Sigh. I'm proud of what I have accomplished, but I really wish I could get myself more on board with this gym thing. It's so easy to forget to do it, completely block it from my brain until the gym is closed for the night.

I have never understood the whole endorphin rush that you're supposed to get from exercising. It's never happened to me. Never. Not once in my entire life. I played on the golf and tennis teams in high school, I played soccer when I was younger, I still like to bike, play golf, and hike, not to mention the workouts I do at the gym. (I won't call them "regular" workouts because there's nothing regular about working out twice a week for a week and then skipping the gym for the next three weeks.) I have done cardio for an hour at a time, and all I ever felt afterward was tired. Either my brain isn't working right or that whole endorphin thing is way oversold. Probably it's both. Anyway, the reason I started on this tangent was to say that maybe that's part of why I don't like to exercise at the gym. I don't get high like everyone else apparently does. Or am I misinformed and the high is only for extreme sports? But that would be adrenaline, wouldn't it?

My table is dry now, so I'm going to go bring it upstairs and try to be happy about the things I've accomplished instead of dwelling on what I haven't. Yay positive thinking.

Room and Board

I finally broke down and bought some convenience foods. I balanced the checking account the other day and there were way too many entries for fast food. So I bought cereal bars, granola bars, a few TV dinners and a few Hot Pocket-type things. Not to worry, I also bought more fruit and vegetables than I usually do.

Sorry for the length, this is just a quick update. I'm engrossed in a search for a three bedroom apartment. Not that I'm going to find anything, but I guess it'll keep me distracted for a few hours.

Up and up and up

Weight is up to 237.6. Yay! I cannot express to you how much the idea of gaining weight for no good reason thrills me. And at what, 1 or 2 pounds a day? How exciting! I shall be unable to move by the end of the year.

So, to recap, I need 3400 calories a day to maintain 230 pounds. Not that I want to maintain 230 pounds, but anyway. My calories yesterday were 2887, which is more than it should be. I ate emotionally twice, a glass of chocolate milk when the damn curtain rod fell off the wall again and no matter what I did it wouldn't stay up; and a sesame seed bagel with cheese and Canadian bacon when I weighed myself and it said I'd gained 4 pounds. Apparently I was teaching that scale good. It ended up being around 600 extra calories. No matter how many extra calories it ended up being, I was still well below the break-even line. I had a 500 calorie deficit, which, while it may not have made me lose any weight right away, should be enough to lose a pound a week. Yet here we are.

Anyway, I'll stop harping on that. Today is my last day providing daycare full-time. Yay! Kind of. (That one wasn't sarcastic.) On the one hand, I know that E and, to some extent, N, like having other kids around. However, it can get really grating if the daycare kids are being brats (happens a lot) and it can get really annoying if them being brats makes E think that he can act the same way (happens way too much for me). The money was also nice. But oh well.

That's it for now, I guess. I won't bore you by trying to pull topics out to discuss when I can't think of any. I'm going to pay special attention to balancing what food groups I eat and getting lots of water today; hopefully tomorrow will show some improvement in weight.

Fatty fatty fat fat

Weight is up to 235.8. This is baffling to me. I will admit to eating more than I should on the weekend, but that was four days ago, and I certainly didn't eat an extra 18,000 calories.

According to the most basic formula (weight x 15 to maintain) I should be able to eat 3500 calories a day and not gain weight. And I don't. Eat 3500 calories a day, that is. I do keep track. I hope it's one of those girl bloaty things. Gaining unexplainable weight was one reason why I gave up dieting after N was born. Breastfeeding and eating 2000-2500 calories a day got me a 10 pound weight gain. The next 25 came after I threw up my hands in disgust and gave up. Good job me! I am seriously considering thyroid testing, the fat person's scapegoat of choice. I had it tested once, when I was younger, and it was within normal ranges. However, that is something that can change with pregnancy and I've had two. So maybe. That would be nice to be able to take a pill and actually lose weight when I diet and exercise.

I have a confession to make. When I was younger, after my dog died, I stopped eating. And then once I got over the worst of the grief I had lost weight. So I kept not eating. And I lost 40 pounds. (Sadly, losing forty pounds did not make me skinny. I was still at least 15 pounds overweight.) Then I got bored and started eating again. I did manage to keep a lot of the weight I had lost off until I got pregnant with E. I am very seriously considering doing that again. Willful anorexia. Frankly, it was the only diet that ever worked for me. I am not condoning the whole eat-until-you-starve-to-death thing, nor am I saying it's for long term use. But maybe my food issues are so bad that the only way I can deal with them is to just not eat. I wish I could be normal about food, but I've been trying for a decade now and I'm no closer than I was when I started.

I can't believe I'm actually going to put this on the internet. But it's pertinent information, I guess.

It's just me again

I know I've been inconspicuously absent for a few days. I haven't been avoiding you, I swear.

I'm kind of annoyed with myself right now. I haven't been to the gym since the start of this thing. Actually since well before the start of this thing. I really really want to go. No, I do, seriously. However, I have this weird thing now where I will be dead tired around 9 PM, sleep for an hour, wake up, be up until 3 AM, sleep really crappily until DH finally drags me out of bed so he can get ready to leave at around 9 or 9:30 AM. He leaves a little after 10 and gets home around 8:30 at night. The gym closes at 9. We are a one-car family, and even if we weren't the child care situation at my gym is iffy to say the least. I would probably be seriously angry if I loaded up the kids and took them down there only to find out that it was full, but that's a moot point.

I need to drag my ass out of bed in the morning and go, I know, but it's so hard when you've gotten maybe four hours of sleep. I guess I'll have to split it up--whatever I can get at night and maybe two hours during naptime, and hope I don't keel over from exhaustion.

I've been playing around with real estate listings for the past few days. I would love nothing more than to get my hands on a neglected old house and bring it back to its full glory. I have this weird thing about "saving" old houses from being turned into shitty apartments or being bulldozed to make way for condos or McMansions. To see an old house that someone has remuddled to the point that it needs to be torn down to the studs makes me want to cry. I think I seek out these neglected houses because I feel bad for the old houses I've owned and had big plans for, but haven't been able to save because of one extenuating circumstance or another. If any of that makes sense.

Our credit sucks, though, so purchasing a house will be a few years in the making. I even applied for a mortgage tonight, but, surprise surprise, our scores weren't good enough to get it. (By the way, I think it is a bit silly that the gateway criteria is credit score. To me it's a bit arbitrary to be the end-all be-all deciding factor in these things.) I was completely expecting that we wouldn't get it, but it still depressed me. And I ate a bowl of pasta with ricotta and mozzarella. Sorry, Internet. I'm hanging my head in shame. I fell off the wagon. I wish I could guarantee that it won't happen again, but I can only say that I'll do my best to stay away from the spaghetti next time.

Insight or Die

Here I am again, this time to give you insight into my eating habits. Calm down, control yourself. Try to contain your euphoria.

Most of the time I am really good during the day (although I hate to quantify eating habits as "good" or "bad.") and I do not overeat. I have been having some problems with this at lunch--the kids will eat one bite of their food, or half a sandwich, and then get up from the table. The Clean Plate Club member in me immediately screams in protest, saying that there are starving children in China! Not eating that food would be a travesty! Plus, we are a one-income family, and wasting food=wasting money to me. Something that I cannot abide. But yesterday and today I have done better. When E didn't touch his lunch yesterday, I simply covered it and put it in the fridge for dinner. (Shut up. I'm not Joan Crawford, it was something he liked but he wasn't hungry due to sneaking half of his brother's yogurt.) My first instinct was to eat it, but I fought it successfully. And no one is going to go bankrupt throwing away half a PBJ sandwich a few times a week. Although I may start making half sandwiches to nip that problem in the bud.

Nighttime is the worst time for me. After the kids have gone to bed, it is quiet and it feels like I can finally sit down and relax, and what better way to do that than with a bowl of ice cream? Also, DH doesn't get home until 8:30. I consume most of my food after this point. Not because he's eating; in fact, he usually doesn't eat much at night. I actually don't know why I eat so much when he's home. Is it a subconscious thing? Like he can eat whatever he wants and not gain weight (bastard) so I should be able to as well? Or is it a subconscious thing where I'm trying to eat so much that I goad him into telling me to put down the fork, for God's sake? I really don't think I'm that passive-aggressive.

I know that DH loves me the way I am. When we first met, I told him I was on a diet. He immediately announced his intention to make me a chocolate cake because I did not need to be on a diet. Ha. I weighed 176 when we met. If only he had known how much I really did need to be on a diet so I did not blow up like Violet Beauregarde. It was kind of sweet, though. I guess. I probably would have gotten fat even without that chocolate cake, since most of my weight is from pregnancy and breastfeeding.

When I worked, before being married or having children, when I still lived at home with my parents, in fact, I got to go home for lunch. When I went home I did not prepare a meal, sit down, eat it, and then read a book or watch TV until it was time to go back to work. Not most of the time, anyway. Most of the time I would open the fridge or cupboard, find something to eat, inhale it, and repeat. For some reason I was laboring under the impression that since it was a lunch hour, I should be lunching the entire hour. The funny thing is, I did not realize I was doing this until after I moved out on my own. I have been dieting since I was twelve (at least), thought I knew all there was to know about fats vs. sugars, calories consumed vs. calories expended, crunches vs. lunges, and I failed to identify a huge black hole of calories.

I think this entry has gone on long enough. Before I go, though, I am simply bursting to tell you that my weight is down 0.6 pounds. Woohoo! Excuses to eat! And I am going to a Mother's Day Pizza Fest at my mom's house tonight, so let's hope I can keep myself from gaining that back and then some. Anyway. I'm all done. Really.