Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Emotional eaters we are, we are . . . emotional eaters are we.

We, at Crazy as a Mother, are emotional eaters. 
 



When something good happens, Elizabeth and I throw a celebratory party and throw down some yay-me cake.



When something bad happens, we throw a commiseration party complete with salty pick-me-up burgers, make-me-happy cookies, and maybe a few let's-forget-cocktails (a.k.a bloat-me burgers, roller-coaster cookies, and headache-making cocktails).




Yesterday was neither of these kinds of days.  Nothing exceptionally good happened.  Nothing exceptionally bad happened.  Yet, it could have been one of those days when my emotions take over and lead me down the path of bad food choices. 




Even though some people question whether I really have a job, I do in fact have a paying and sometimes stress-inducing job.  Yesterday, I spent all day at my desk trying to figure out the technology behind certain telecommunications devices.  And, the longer I sat there, the blonder I felt.  



In reality, all I really want to know about telecommunication devices is that my iPhone is going to allow me to call the Great and Powerful Oz to tell him when dinner will be ready . . . .

. . . and that later it will also allow me to text Elizabeth a picture of dinner. 



After spending an hour and a half on the phone with a man whose first language is not the same as mine, I was banging my head on my desk.  Because I have recently become adverse to banging my head into things, I called Oz instead and told him that I wanted to crawl into a box of cookies. 

This box would have worked just fine.
He talked me off the ledge by reminding me that I would feel like crap afterward. And, he's absolutely, right.  I would have felt sluggish and bloated.  I would have been full of regret. 


And, this is something that I'm working on . . . a struggle that I think a lot of women can relate to.   I'm trying to divorce myself from the notions that food is a reward and a pick-me-up.    I have to remind myself daily that

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because I'm programmed to think that food is fun.  Let's face it . . . a cupcake is more fun to look at and talk about than broccoli.  Though . . .  what about a cupcake that looks like broccoli?!? 


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And, eating with friends is a good time!  But, really isn't it the friends that are a good time rather than the food?  My friends are more fun than a box of cupcakes.

But, yesterday, I won the war against cookies.  I didn't eat a single cookie.


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I didn't have a cocktail (which I have cut-out on weekdays).  I didn't even eat a sugar-free popsicle. 

Here is what I ate instead:

BreakfastOops.  I forgot to take a picture.  But, I had a 1/2 a whole wheat English muffin topped with three egg whites, a laughing cow wedge, and some sugar-free orange marmalade.  I also had an apricot and a plum.



Lunch:  A spring mix salad with cottage cheese, cherry tomatoes, jalapenos, and spicy Ms. Dash.  A side of celery and hummus.



Dinner:  Scrambled eggs whites with left over kabob veggies, roasted broccoli slaw (that I stole from here), and lavash chips with hummus. 


Snacks:  Because no day is complete without snacks:


Morning snack:  Plain Fat-Free Greek Yogurt
with strawberries, blueberries, and cherries.


Afternoon snack:  Chocolate rice cake
with cashew butter.  Almost a treat.

Evening Snack while working and reading
 http://www.skinnyrunner.com/ (such a multi-tasker):  
Cottage cheese with nectarine and strawberries.
So, I did all right.  Too much fruit.  But, a few extra servings of fruit is way better than a box of Girl Scout cookies.  Righto. 

Happy hump day,

JMo

Questions for you:

1)  Are you an emotional eater?  How do you talk yourself off the ledge?

2)  The Great and Powerful Oz and I got into a debate this morning about the meaning of "hump day".  I said that the phrase refers to the fact that you have made it half-way through the week, and thus, over the hump.  He said it means something else.   Dirty boy.  Does anyone want to weigh in on that?


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