Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Ssshhhhhh...do you hear that?

...it's my cholesterol rising. So, for mother's day, since I've been craving beer-battered fish and there is nothing even close to a Long John Silvers in town, my husband and I ventured to do it ourselves. We found the recipe I mentioned before at that manly site. And, since we had to purchase beer and cornstarch already, "Why not drink the remaining beers and make beer-battered onion rings?" we said. Bad decision. It felt right at the time, but, like the milkshake, I spent the rest of the night in pain. I won't bore you with details but let's just say I didn't sleep well. I think I've learned my lesson. I can't eat/drink like I'm 20 anymore. Maybe I've tapped out early in life, but whatever-- I'm learning my limits and that seems empowering. In fact, I suppose I'm learning my limits in other parts of life. Call it senioritis, but I'm not terribly fervent about my studies this semester. Granted, I will do the work assigned to my best ability, but I'm just taking a lower level of stress approach. I don't have to be the star student, showing up is 50% of success at this point. Example? Beowulf is the first book assigned for one of my 6 week literature course. Before, I would have read it word for word (again). This semester, having read it 3 times previously, I will sparknote it after I work out while watching America's Next Top Model. 'Cause really-- Tyra is a bit more relevant to me than Wealhtheow.

Friday, May 6, 2011

My Milkshake

I took the dog for a long walk in the park yesterday while the landlord showed our apartment and while I was walking, my stomach was growling like it was going to eat my face off. So, since I had a coupon for a FREE spicy chicken sandwich, I figured-- why not? So, the dog and I pulled into ChickFilA and just as we passed the front door, a woman walked out carrying a beautiful milkshake, crowned with whipped cream and a bright cherry. POOF! A demon appeared on my shoulder. "Wow. That looks amazing. You should get one." POOF! An angel appeared on the other shoulder. "Milkshakes make you sick. Remember last time you got a milkshake? You don't want that feeling again, right?" Miniature devil countered: "It wasn't THAT bad. Worth it, right? Everyone who's tried this shake says it's heavenly! Coincidence? I think not." My own brain got in the action, "Hmmm...that's a lot of calories, too. Like, milkshakes are calorie mecca's. You'd have to work out for like, the rest of the afternoon to burn all that off (meaning, you'll never burn it off). But it does look awfully good....." By this time I was in front of the microphone and cars were lining up behind me. I blurted it out, "SPICYCHICKENSANDWICHLARGEDIETLEMONADEANDABANANAPUDDINGMILKSHAKE--SMALL!" I'd get a small one. Not too much damage, right? Come to find out, "small" to ChickFilA is 14oz. and almost 800 calories. (Holy cow, America.) So, I think, "Well, I'll just drink half then." There's no drinking half. This stuff is so good I practically licked the Styrofoam cup. People in cars next to me were staring. Then, it started. Not the guilt, but the cloud of yuck-i-ness. Within 30 minutes I was curled in a fetal position on my couch-- headache, stomach ache, sweating! Oh, it was miserable. (I'm writing this all out so the NEXT time I think it wasn't that bad, I can refer to this post and flick that little demon off my shoulder.) Needless to say, I did not "work off" those calories last night. It's a wonder I could pick the kids up from school. But, I have learned a valuable lesson-- spur of the moment decisions are sometimes to be avoided because the ramifications of those decisions last much longer than a moment. Here's to a better today.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Check it out...


So, I found my new favorite website for foody inspo. How many hours have I spent trying to find dinner recipes that are both economical, fast prep time and will still please the husband (his mantra? "Salad is not a meal!")? Somehow, the Google gods smiled upon me today and blessed me with the bastion of burly baking, broiling and barbcueing: MAN TESTED RECIPES! Not only do they explain beer-battering fish ala Tyler Durden ("The first rule of  beer battering is you don't talk about beer battering) but they have a "healthy" section as well-- even a vegetarian section for those so inclined. I'll be sure to post how my caveman creations turned out. To the grocery store!

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Epic fail...

Sigh. So, somehow, even though I have worked out strenuously and counted calories this past month, I have gained 4lbs. How is this  possible?! I scream this to my husband (who created this eating plan for me) and he is baffled. "How can your body defy the laws of physics?" He is smart enough to not accuse me of deviating from the plan. My friend says I worry about it too much. How does one NOT worry about something that clearly means a lot to them? How does one "shut off" the worry and not grow obese? ('Cause when I shut off the worry, it's usually to face-plant into a giant cupcake.) I grow more frustrated. Now I worry about worrying and wonder if the worry makes me fat. I need a cookie to make me not worry. I work out instead. Have another cup of coffee. Salad. Protein. Coffee. Work out. Worry Don't worry. Don't worry. Don't worry. Now i've officially worried about the non-worry. Cortisol levels have spiked. Now I really need that cookie. : (

Monday, May 2, 2011

Artistic/Autistic

So, many many years ago, my cousin was tested for Autism. When questioned about it, my aunt said, "I don't know why they think he is autistic, he doesn't even like to draw." (Get it...autistic/artistic?) So, whenever I hear the word "artistic", my brain goes right to that family memory and then spirals downward into my son truly being autistic. Then I chuckle, thinking, "He really doesn't like to draw, either." Today, as I sat making a picture schedule, hoping my son would be into it, I thought of all the many things he DOES do artistically.
I usually walk into his room to see something like this-- a menagerie of his animals in different poses, usually organized by kingdom, phylum, class, etc.
We spend our Fridays nights doing stuff like this. Want an insider's tip? Buy stock in Scotch tape.
I was somewhat impressed by the fact that out of "400 Reusable Stickers", he noticed that the only kind of animal missing was the kangaroo-- which we had to cut off the front and tape to the wall. :)

So, though other artist work in oils or clay, my son works in "animals". :)