Perhaps some of my readers recall that I set out to lose some weight back around New Year's. Our doctor threatened Cliff back then, saying he was going to end up diabetic if he didn't lose some weight; then he pointed the finger at me, saying he knew I was the one putting food on the table.
I've lost twenty pounds, and my weight has stayed at 166 ever since the colonoscopy prep got me down to that point. No, I haven't really lost any pounds since then, but I pat myself on the back for not gaining. I got rid of most of my pregnant-looking belly; I now appear only about four months pregnant, instead of seven.
Cliff keeps losing the same five pounds and gaining it back, through no fault of my own. Oh, I suggest eating out about once a week... Pizza Hut is a favorite... but I make up for those excess calories with the meals I prepare at home that day, so it works out well. If we have something not-so-good-for-us at home, like fried catfish, I no longer cook two skillets-full, and I don't make the corn bread and fried potatoes that I love to serve with it; I substitute a small baked potato and some broccoli or spinach or green beans.
Cliff's problem lies in meals he eats without my supervision. Catered dinners at work, for instance, although he's done rather well at sticking to one portion on those.
Weekend before last, Cliff spent two days and nights at his brother's house in Kansas, without me. Don's wife is a good cook. She made, among other things, a coconut cream pie, and practically followed Cliff around with it until it was gone.
I'm not faulting her; Cliff is a cook's dream. He loves to eat and is very appreciative of the efforts made at preparing a meal. Everybody loves to feed him.
I'm not faulting Cliff, either. He absolutely can't help himself when he comes face to face with coconut cream pie, or any pie, really. Had I been there, he would have felt accountable and would have stuck with one serving, without my saying a word. Looks like if he heads down there again, I'll be going along. Boredom never killed anybody.
What bothers me about this whole situation is the way I feel when something like this happens. My mind knows Cliff wasn't thinking, "Oh boy, Boss Donna isn't here with her whip, so I'll show her; I'll eat all the stuff she doesn't want me eating."
Nope. He was thinking, "Coconut Cream pie!!!!!! I haven't had pie in months!!!! I love pie! Pass the pie!!!!"
In fact, I know Cliff well enough that I can say assuredly he had extreme guilt with every bite of that pie.
But when he came home and had gained that five pounds back that we'd spent three weeks getting off him, here's what I felt... not what I thought, because I know better, but what I felt:
"He doesn't care about my efforts. He doesn't care that I would love to make pie because I like pie too, but I can't make it because he would gain weight. He doesn't care if he gets diabetes and goes blind and has limbs amputated as long as he can eat pie."
After all, it's all about me. Right?
What really makes this so childish of me is that I have my own set of eating problems; if I didn't, I wouldn't be just "holding my own" with regard to weight. I'd still be losing. I'd stay away from Pizza Hut and I'd stop having a gallon or so of popcorn every night for supper.
Since nobody ever threatened me with diabetes, I suppose I figure I'm doing OK.
I may be childish, but at least I can admit it: maybe that's why our marriage has lasted so long. Or maybe Cliff is just a very long-suffering person.
My Arkansas bloggie-friend, Patsy, was disappointed that I failed to use this picture in the previous entry. So here you go, Patsy, even though this probably doesn't go under the heading of "weighty matters".
Thursday before we made our trip to Sam's Club, I had a long talk with myself. You see, any trip that involves our being in the metropolitan Kansas City area is fraught with temptations to eat out, at least for me. Cliff prefers home cooking, but he's always glad to oblige me when I want to eat out.
We're losing weight around here, both of us. We're also budgeting, practicing for retirement. So before we left, I gave myself the following pep talk.
"Self," I said, "we are going to be in the vicinity of an Olive Garden restaurant. You know very well that the soup, salad, and breadsticks meal will cost fifteen bucks for the two of us, plus a $5 tip (If you can't afford to tip, you can't afford to eat out). Twenty dollars would buy a lot of beans and rice or chicken leg quarters. Also, foolish Self, you know that the Zuppa Toscana you always order is 170 calories per bowl, and you always have at least two bowls. Furthermore, dear Self, one breadstick is 140 calories, and you never stop at less than three."
We won't even talk about the sodium involved. Probably three times as much as we should have in one day. If you eat out ANYWHERE, you are getting too much sodium. It's a given.
The talk did me good, but while we were in Sam's Club I realized I had not prepared anything ahead of time for our dinner at home; by the time we got home, I wouldn't have time to fix much of anything before Cliff had to leave for work. So I bought one of their roasted chickens for five dollars.
Back home, I microwaved a baked potato and cooked some frozen vegetables, and dinner was ready within twenty minutes.
Friday I used 2 1/2 cups of the leftover roast chicken in a new recipe, "Healthified" chicken tortilla casserole (very yummy!). That was our main dish both Friday and Saturday, as well as Cliff's lunch for work Friday night. Today there's just enough of that roast chicken left for a chef salad; that will be our Sunday dinner.
A five dollar chicken can go a long way, baby.
Cliff and I ate far too many seasonal goodies: sweets, cheese balls, dip and so forth. Each of us, when we weighed yesterday, had gained 11 1/2 pounds. So we got ourselves back on track with our diet. This morning, I had already lost 3 of those pesky pounds. I know, I know... it's water weight. That, and just the fact that I actually let my gut get empty for the first time in weeks. Still, 8 1/2 pounds sounds a lot easier to shed than 11 1/2.Speaking of getting rid of excess: This past year we totally paid off all credit card debt, which is a great feeling. We still use the cards, mind you. But we pay them off in full, each month.Well, we got a little carried away in December, buying things for the motorcycle, and various other stuff for ourselves. The $800 bill that arrived yesterday bowled me over. Surely it was a mistake? Nope; I went over each purchase, and they're all legitimate. I think I'll be paying this bill over a two-month period. At least we have something to show for what we charged; all we have to do is go out to the shop and look at the motorcycle.I don't think I'll be making any more purchases online for a couple of months.Oh, and the gravel I threw a hissy-fit for? It's coming Friday, weather permitting. Around $300.
Yeah, and it's time to send in personal property taxes. That's almost $400.
'Tis the season.
