Getting My Just Desserts

This weekend was our ward (church) Christmas party. I was in charge. Somehow I managed to live through it. And I haven't looked at a single blog in three days, not to mention the laundry, dishes, or my children. Sometimes I envy people who get paid by their churches to do this sort of thing - not saying I think we should, just saying wouldn't that be nice.

After three days of non-stop running around, phone-calling, tablecloth-dilemmas, decorating, stressed-out-runs-to-the-store, and general feelings of panic and coordination-anxiety, I would just like to say that it all came together, and was a smashing success.

But my feet still hurt.

And next week I'm going to the other ward's Christmas party, I'm not bringing my children, and I'm going to spend the whole time eating, socializing (since it's not like I don't know most of them anyway) and enjoying myself. And secretly crying because their menu has mashed potatoes instead of scalloped/funeral/yummy style like we did, and I didn't get any, and can't seem to get over it. I was very depressed when I cornered their activities person in the hall today (skipping the last bit of sacrament meeting to do so) and found out this sad, sad, piece of news. I don't even like mashed potatoes - except with cottage cheese, which they obviously won't have. Maybe I should bring my own? Hmmm, a possibility...

But then again, I may come out on top after all, because they're having home-made desserts (we did Costco pies), so there's no telling what kind of yummy things people might show up with.

So next Saturday night, I have a date. With myself - and the entire First Ward. And my husband if I can talk him into coming. (Yeah, the odds on that one aren't so good, so I suggest holding off on the bets). And now, just to prove how exhausted I really am after this whole ordeal, I am going to bed. BEFORE ten-thirty. Without reading a SINGLE blog (although it's extremely tempting). And I can honestly say, I don't remember the last time this combination of early-bedtime/non-blog-reading happened. So have a great week, and send lots of little mind-messages to the ladies in the First Ward to make really delicious desserts, because I deserve it.

(And I'm definitely considering the cottage cheese option - do you think I could keep it hidden in my purse? I'd stuff it down my bra, but somehow I think that might not work so well... Wish me luck!!)

Thanksgiving Rebel

I didn't eat any turkey. Or gravy. Or potatoes.

And it wasn't because I was dieting.

I seriously don't know what happened to me this year! I went to my sister's house with my other sister, and a few assorted acquaintances, and there was a HUGE spread of food. What threw me off? To those who know me well, this will come as no surprise - over half the available entrees were dessert.

I was afraid. Afraid that if I wasted precious room in my stomach digesting boring old turkey/gravy/potatoes, I wouldn't be able to fully appreciate all those wonderful desserts.

Especially after all the snacky food I ate while waiting for the actual feast.

My first trip through the line was for my two year old, and I dutifully put all the appropriate things on her plate - while looking longingly at the desserts. She sat on my lap while she ate, and I helped her pick at her food - thinking of the cheesecake the entire time.

Finally it was my turn to eat. My strategy wasn't premeditated, I swear. I picked up my plate, moved towards the potatoes, planned on a big spoonful - but somehow breezed right past. Same thing for the turkey. And the stuffing. And the gravy. (Obviously. Who wants straight gravy?)

Before I knew it, I was putting a large helping of this yummy pudding-with-real-raspberries dessert on my plate. Then I grabbed a few of those (totally sinful, and EXTREMELY buttery) crescent rolls my sister made. Then I went for the cheesecake. I was the first one there. Same with the pumpkin.

Are you visualizing the food on my plate? Dr. Atkins would have had a stroke! I had every available carb (sans potatoes), and a sampling of every sweet treat on my FIRST plate.

I'm such a rebel. (Good things my kids didn't notice. Especially my oldest, because I'd made him put down his first plate when all he'd dished up was dessert. Wonder where he gets it?)

I would also like to publicly declare that I do not regret my actions. I know I laughed in the face of tradition, but it was worth it. There's no way I could have downed that much dessert if I'd done my turkey-duty, and that would have been a real shame. And while my Thanksgiving diet was completely void of protein, just think of all the calories I saved! Because seriously - I would have eaten the same amount of desserts anyway.

It just would have made me a little sicker to do it.

Just Doing What I'm Told...

The other day I posted my not-getting-fat-during-the-holidays plan over on Skinny Pants, but not very many of you made it over there, and I've had several people tell me I should post it over here, so I am.

Good thing they didn't tell me to go jump off a bridge...

If you've already read it, I apologize, if you love giving yourself a reason for that January diet, you are excused, and if you're curious, read on:

Holiday Strategy for the Battle of the Bathroom Scale

So, it's November - aka "The Most Critical Time of the Year." Well, for me and any of you hoping to hold steady (or maybe even gain some ground) in that annoying battle with the bathroom scale. At this time every year I put the battle strategy into play, and get ready to come out victorious on New Year's. And just so you know, this plan is geared ENTIRELY around eating Holiday food, and avoiding goody-deprivation at all holiday food gatherings.

And it never fails me.

Just thought some of you might be interested.

I really should have posted this right after Halloween - since I always get things started at the beginning of November - but I was too busy not thinking about Halloween candy to organize my thoughts... But better late then never, right?

So, the plan. The strategy. It all revolves around advanced planning and preemptive striking. In other words, lose now, gain later, and it all comes out in the wash.

I know, I know, you're thinking, "Like it's that easy to just 'lose now.' If I could do that I already would have. Duh." But just hear me out. This is all about mind power, and is totally doable. I swear. Why? What magic formula will make it easier to lose this time? Motivation. Hanging before you every day from now to Christmas, are all those goodies. The feasts. The cookies. The party foods and appetizers constituting a meals worth of calories in a single bite. All the foods you know you'll want to eat, and should be able to eat because it's Christmas. Do you really want to be the one at the party saying "Well, that hot, steamy, overly cheesy, completely delicious looking, and divine tasting artichoke dip looks great, but I'm really just into celery right now,"???

Trust me. You can do this. You can do anything for a couple of weeks and a big piece of guiltless-pumpkin-cheesecake, right?

So here's the goal. Lose at least two (solid, meaning more than just water weight) pounds before Thanksgiving, and then again before Christmas. And here's the plan to accomplish it.

1. Pick your most favorite eating time of the day and leave it alone (meaning, eat as usual, no suffering necessary). You love breakfast? Fine. Lunch? Fine. Dinner? Evening snack? No problem. All of them? Pick one. And no complaining - it won't work if you're not willing to suffer at least a tiny bit.

2. Look at your two remaining meals, and usual snacks, and start sacrificing. Cut them in half, substitute with healthy/low-fat/low-carb/low-sugar/smaller portion/or-what-ever-it-is-that-works-for-you meals, grit your teeth, think about your favorite holiday treat and how you will guiltlessly consume a second helping, and bear it.

3. Add an extra gimmick just to kick start things. For instance, this year mine is "turn down one thing every day." Sounds so small, but I've given up an ice cream sundae (with LOADS of toppings, all you can eat), brownies (the plural because you know I wouldn't have stopped at just one), pastries, my late-night handful of milk chocolate chips, and a few other things just this week. Other years I've ditched sweet-treats altogether, or eaten one salad a day - whatever. Just pick some small thing and be strict. No cheating allowed.

4. If you have a party to attend, eat light all day to make up for it. (And don't go totally overboard when you get there. It's not Christmas YET). If you have to make goodies, go ahead and have some, but set your limit before they're done, stick to it, and get them out of the house fast. If someone brings you treats, eat them. Then skip dinner. (Well, that's what I do, but I suppose I shouldn't try to sell you on such obviously not-healthy strategies. But it does work...)

5. Look in the mirror at least three times a day (no complaining, if you've read this blog before you TOTALLY knew this would be part of the plan) and tell yourself you're going to be a skinny babe by Christmas.

6. Exercise is extra-credit.

7. When the morning of the big day comes (first Thanksgiving, then Christmas), save your calories up. For instance, have an apple for breakfast. Eat a pile of lettuce for lunch.

8. At the actual event? Enjoy yourself. Eat up. Gain back those two pounds all in one sitting if you want - you earned it. (Or, not. Besides, like you can gain two pounds of actual fat in one sitting. I personally believe one meal never hurt anybody).

I would just like to bear my testimony that everyone should get to eat at Christmas dinner without "watching what they eat." I also believe that gorging on good food for the entire holiday season is going over the top, and should be considered a diet-sin. I know that every woman has at least four weeks of solid diet-self-control in her - especially when the reward is turkey gravy, Christmas croisants, and chocolate trifle. I also know that my little battle strategy works for me, and will work for anyone who undertakes it with real intent. Losing two pounds is really not an impossible task. And you'll thank yourself on New Year's. In the name of Holiday Food, amen.

Meara - The Bionic Two Year Old

When my mom was young, she had a dog named Sunny that lived in the house. The only thing she's ever told me about Sunny, is that no matter where the dog was, or how hard it was sleeping, you couldn't get into the cookie jar with out Sunny knowing. No matter how quietly the lid was handled, moments later Sunny would come bounding into the kitchen asking for a treat.

Some people have dogs. We have Meara.

For lack of treats and desserts in our house (because I have no self control and cannot sleep if such things are available), (that last was NOT an exaggeration by the way) my husband has come up with his own evening treat. Cake mix. And water. In a mug. Sound terrible, doesn't it? Just for the record, however, it's actually not bad.

To make this decadent dessert, he dumps some mix (preferably yellow) into a mug, pours in a little water, and stirs rapidly until the mixture reaches a smooth consistency. When ready for consumption, he sits on the couch with his treat and eats it with a spoon. And then he leaves the cup lying around so I can find it later with cake mix all dried and crusted inside. (That last sentence has nothing to do with this story, but everything to do with another story).

Needless to say our children are all aware of "Dad's stuff" and like him to share with them. Especially Meara. A couple of nights ago Rusty sneaked off to the kitchen with plans to get his "stuff" upstairs before being detected. As he finished stirring and came walking out of the kitchen with it, he picked up a tail.

We couldn't figure out how she saw the cup - since he practically had it in his shirt - but there was no doubt she knew what was going on. She moved right in behind him with the excited skipping, laughing, pig-tail-bouncing gait of a two year old who knows she's about to get a bite of "Dad's stuff". He made the circuit through our living room/front room at least three times before admitting there was no getting away from her.

FYI, if you have food - there is NO getting away from her.

Tonight we figured out her secret abilities. There we were, sitting on the couch. Rusty nonchalantly stands up and moves into the kitchen. Meara is playing on the other side of the couch. A few minutes later, I just happen to notice the faint "clink, clink" of spoon stirring in mug, and somewhere in my brain the fact registers that Rusty's making his "stuff".

At about this same moment Meara's head pops up. She resembles a hound on the scent. She drops whatever it was she was playing with, puts her head down, and runs for the kitchen.

She meets him at the kitchen doorway - hot on his heels.

SHE HEARS THE CLINKING OF SPOON ON MUG TWO ROOMS AWAY, AND REALIZES IT MEANS FOOD! WHILE BUSILY INVOLVED WITH HER OWN TOYS! SHE IS TWO!

Do you think I could get on Oprah? Maybe That's Incredible would be interested.

And the scariest thing? I'm pretty sure she gets this ability from me. I do have a thing for treats. If I thought my neighbors had cake at their house I'd probably come up with an excuse to go visiting. Even though I hardly know them.

Where these abilities will take my daughter, no one can tell. Maybe she should be some kind of food taster? Does anyone know if there's money in that? It seems like she could be worth something to the right people, doesn't it?

Who knows. But for now, I just hope those of you without freaky-hyper-sensibility-two-year-olds appreciate eating your food in peace. Next time you eat something good - that you don't want to share - think of us and be even happier. We would be sharing.

The 600 Calorie Diet

Like most every other woman in the world, I have tried many methods of weight loss since the ripe old age of fourteen. Why fourteen? Probably because the summer I was thirteen I spent a month with my brother helping out at the donut shop. Bad deal, that one. And some really, really fabulous donuts. Did I say some? Because what I should have said was dozens and dozens of really fabulous donuts.

Those donuts put me on a path. A wide, spacious path filled with people who, like myself, are on an eternal search for a magical formula for losing weight. There have been some doozies. Some are familiar to all, i.e. the cabbage soup diet. Some were a bit more unusual. Anyone out there ever try the Beverly Hills diet? For the first twenty-four hours you eat nothing but watermelon. As much of it as you want - but nothing else. You think you like watermelon? Go ahead and try nothing but for twenty-four hours,then we'll talk. Day two had something to do with pineapple, but I never made it that far.

My favorite, however, was the 600 calorie diet. It was sent to Kelly and I by Koni (her mother, my sister) while we were at college. Just the name instills faith in the plan - how could you fail with only 600 calories a day! But wait - there's more. This is a diet with some science behind it. It's one of those tricky little plans that supposedly fools your sleepy metabolism into becoming a calorie burning machine. How does it (supposedly) work? Read on.

Your supposed to eat 600 calories for three days. Then, just before your body goes into starvation mode, on day four you bump it up to 900 calories. Woo Hoo. You stay there for days five, six, and seven. Then, for the next week you get a whopping 1200 calories.

Now, this sounds bad enough, but it gets worse. Koni couldn't find the actual information, so she just sent us her version. Aside from a slight problem with the numbers, she was right on. Her version had us starting out with 300 calories. Yes, that would be no more than 300 calories a day for three days.

Kelly and I were not scared. We had tried Koni's weight loss programs before and were still alive, if not any thinner. (The Beverly Hills diet was also courtesy of Koni). Koni had included a list with lots of low calorie foods and there exact caloric worth. Fearlessly, we took the plunge. Those first three days went something like this:

Wake up, eat nothing. Go to class
Come home and have half an apple and a hard boiled egg.
Sleep to ignore the hunger.
Wake up eat the other half of the apple, and go back to class.
Come home and eat a piece of dry toast followed by a large glass of water.
We are now half way to 300.
Go back to sleep.
Wake up and eat 150 calories of something, and go to bed.

Homework no doubt suffered, but as college girls we had our priorities. I swear that every time either of us came home the other one was sleeping. It should have been called the sleep-away-the-pain diet.

Now, according to Koni's version you bump up to 600 calories on day four. Can I just say that 600 calories never looked so good? We were going to double our caloric intake - we were so excited! Recklessly, we started day four out with an entire apple. Before class. Our mid-morning break meant a hard boiled egg AND a piece of dry toast - ALL AT ONE SITTING! I think we felt full.

Then we hurried into our room for our nap. Maybe we weren't so full.

Lunch was meager, dinner was worse, and we continued to sleep the pain away while dreaming of our metabolisms kicking it into high gear and burning every ounce of excess fat from our bodies. Do you suppose the lack of food was causing disillusionment?

Somewhere around day six we got a phone call from Koni. "Hey girls, just thought you'd want to know that I found that information on the diet. Turns out you were supposed to start out with 600 calories, then go to 900, and then 1200. I thought 300 seemed a little low."

You'd think we'd have been mad. Frustrated and starved? Yes. Mad? Heck no! We had just proved we could make it for six days on 3300 calories! If we could handle the 300 calorie diet, the 600 calorie version would be a cinch. A few days off from starvation and we were ready to go.

We successfully followed the 600 calorie diet a few times that year. (The fact that it needed repeating casts doubts on its effectiveness, but it really did make you FEEL thin while you were starving.) And in case any of you are thinking of trying it, I have a few tips. Do not attempt this plan if you're life doesn't allow for numerous naps a day. DO NOT attempt if there is anyone, i.e. husband, children, dog, whatever, in your life requiring any form of service, or any amount AT ALL of patience. Take it from someone who knows, you will be unable to fulfill these requirements on less than 1200 calories a day.

No, we never saw any great improvement - aside from a few pounds that were no doubt water weight - after following this plan. No, I would not recommend anyone to try this (or any other form of voluntary starvation) to lose weight. And finally, no, I do not rely on drastic measure such as these to stay thin. Let's face it, I love food too much. What I will say for the 600 calorie diet is this - it was definitely the most memorable of all the crazy diets I've ever tried. Cabbage soup, Chinese tea, Beverly Hills, juice fast (okay, maybe we have a tie), no diet out there can possibly be as bad or as crazy as the good old 600 calorie diet!

The Baxter Factor

There must be something about our DNA. That is the only thing that can possibly explain my children's love affair with food. Admittedly, I love to eat. Ask anyone who knows me, if you have food, I'm there. I fall into the category of people who can't sleep if there is chocolate in the house. You think this is an exaggeration, but sadly it's only too true. Cheesecake, cookies, cake, pie, junk food of many varieties - if it's around it's breakfast, lunch, and dinner until it's gone.

My husband is also a pretty good eater. I discovered early in our marriage that trying to make leftovers doesn't work. If I make a pot of chili, he eats a pot of chili. And now we have four children - three of them male - who are every bit as bad as we are. What is going to happen to our financial security when Liam and Niall are teenagers? Laugh all you want, this is serious stuff. I've already decided they will probably have to contribute to the food budget just to keep us going. Let me give you some idea of what I'm talking about.

1. I had to make a rule when Liam turned seven that no child can eat more than I do at dinner. Seven??!!!

2. When Conan made a bird feeder out of peanut butter and birdseed Niall ate it.

3. Meara eats a large bowl of cereal for breakfast, and then routinely goes from stool to stool looking for leftovers in all of her brother's bowls. When finished, she asks for more. And more, and more.

4. Two boxes of mac-n-cheese is only enough for my kids if there's at least one side dish to go with it. Then they're hungry an hour later.

5. Niall loves smoked oysters, chicken hearts, zucchini, cabbage, salad, seafood, bird seed, crawdads (crayfish), and any food with an unusual name/smell/appearance. He doesn't like potatoes.

6. Tonight for dinner Meara ate seven slices of cantaloupe, a 4 inch sub (with cucumbers, meat, cheese, and tomatoes) and who knows how many fishy crackers, all proceeded by an appetizer of popcorn and whatever else her dad gave her before I got home.

7. All of my children will eat at least 6 plate sized, medium thick pancakes. Liam and Niall eat more like 10. We don't make pancakes.

8. All the lunch ladies at the school have commented on my children's ability to 'pack it away'. Apparently they are legendary school lunch consumers.

9. Conan likes to eat breakfast, brunch, lunch, lunch II, pre-dinner, dinner (unless it's chicken), and bedtime snack. No I don't let him, but he capitalizes at Grandma's house. She's sure I starve my children.

10. On Sunday Conan brought home another birdfeeder and we had to hide it from Niall. "Mom! He's eating my birdfeeder again!" Whose kids have to say things like this?

Can you see where I'm going here? If we had junk food at our house my children would have a serious problem. (Anyone who doesn't already know what we look like is probably feeling a little concerned as it is). What is going to happen to us? My children may literally put us out on the streets with their dietary demands - and then they'll really be hungry!

All I can say is that you mom's with kids who don't eat - you may not have it so bad. At least you'll have a retirement - our kids will probably consume ours. And your mothers probably don't accuse you of starving your children, because your children probably don't walk through their door hungry EVERY time you visit.

I could go on, and on, and on about my kids and food. There are benefits of course, like rarely making a dinner no one will eat - although Niall's problem with potatoes combined with Conan's dislike of chicken does cause some issues. And like I've already suggested, I suppose Rusty and I are to blame. That is, unless it's something in the water?