Whoopie! I can hardly stand it. I say hardly, meaning I can not only stand that it’s Friday, and I can sit in it and roll in it, too.
BTW, I am showing you a picture of my kitchen in its typically messy state. Yes, there are the usual things: a Birthday mug, some kite string, peanut butter, cocoa powder, and lemon juice. It’s like a MacGuyver contraption for blowing a door open. In your colon.
Speaking of rolling and blowing and colons…
Last night I had what I am going to call a granola moment.
You know that moment? It’s the instant when you think, You know; I can’t eat that Triscuit there, so I am going to enjoy a couple of gluten-free, spicy Nut Thins dipped in sour cream. What a delight!
Only that isn’t what happens.
Why, you ask? Oh why? Why, my friends? Because, I respond. Because you have children. That is why. Oh yes. That is why, indeed.
Because you are now standing there at midnight in your kitchen, in your underpants, bathed in only the golden gossamer light beams of your Kenmore refrigerator, and you open the sour cream container only to find that was once a 16-ounce plastic vehicle brimming with tart semi-solids has apparently magically evaporated into a tablespoon of yellow sour cream juice and a dried pinkie-sized blob of coagulated dairy product quivering on the side of the now-echoing, vast chamber. And no one never ever thought to note the need for more sour cream on the shopping list only a foot from where the empty container now rested. So, as a result, you eat two or three handfuls of granola out of spite. Because you can. Because you really wanted sour cream. And because you hope when someone opens the box in the morning they say, “WHO ATE MAH GRANOLA!” so you can just sit there and you put your hand to your chest in a mock gesture as if to say, “Who? ….ME?!”
That, my friends, is a granola moment.
Last night I had that moment.
Positive takeaway: I learned something important about myself–No more granola. And keep sour cream doubly-stocked.
Now on to how I’ve been doing with my weight loss and continued sussing out of foods to which I’m intolerant or allergic to… Be sure to do your thing. I am thrilled share my progress and thoughts, but I’m not the person you should necessarily look to for dieting advice (I’m not a paid nosh-a-titian). Be sure to subscribe for updates by adding your email right (in the sidebar) or through Feedburner in the title bar up top. You can also click the tab up top that says Mid-Year Resolution for regular updates.
I ate this:
Breakfast: Nothing. My granola moment was really late last night. Let’s face it; I typically skip breakfast.
Lunch: Turkey jerky
Dinner: Cottage cheese, olives, seeds, and Parmesan cheese (I’m feeling a little bit sick tonight. I think I have a virusy thing)
Notes: I typically am not an early-morning eater, but you’ll notice, if anything, I eat more toward the end of the day. That’s when I’m more naturally hungry (and not necessarily due to blood sugar dropping, although sometimes…) When do you tend to eat the most?
What I learned:
As an aside, so different from my perfectionist, all-or-nothing days, I don’t hate myself for my granola moment.
I didn’t give myself the no-no face of guilt. I am not re-starting again (you kidding? The first time through sucks). I don’t curse myself, thinking I may have set my weight loss back forever (inflammatory water weight gain isn’t exactly like marathon eating at the dessert buffet. It’s water retention and not caloric imbalance causing gain in the form of fat accumulation). I don’t think I’m a failure (a lamer occasionally, but not a failure). I don’t say Er ners! I CHEATED ON MY DIET! Those are all negative, false emotions. I don’t have time for that! I record the experience and I move forward because I learned something: I am averse to oats.
So how about you? Can you forgive yourself a granola moment and move forward? I think you should. Negative emotions push you towards ‘falling off of the wagon,’ and you’re too legit to risk being stomped on by the horse. Besides, there are bugs on the ground. Ewww. And horse poo. Ewww!
Occasional granola moments happen. Make the next one a scientific experiment, journal, be accountable, and keep going. This isn’t about “you” and your self worth (is your self-worth really wrapped up in bacon?); it’s about your health and how you subsist, long-term, with the foods (like [no]oats, for me) you’re going to have access to more than once.