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Tag Archives | eating

I’ve been fitbit

It started innocently enough. A friend of mine who just had her second child bought herself a fitbit, a little piece of digitized plastic that tracks how many steps you take in a day, the miles you walk, and the calories you burn.  Or the lack thereof, depending.

R. swore by her little doodad; she walked and she walked and now, damned if she isn’t on week four of a  couch to 5K program.  She swears the fitbit got her moving.

How could a little piece of plastic with a happy face on it motivate a person, I thought to myself, tossing another handful of candy corn into my mouth.

Here’s the thing: in New York, people walk. New Yorkers walk everywhere and if we’re not walking, we’re running to the subway, hauling ass up and down the stairs.  New Yorkers are like sharks: stop moving and we’ll die.

But out here in the land of cheap gas and big cars?  It’s a bit like walking in LA: people do it, but everyone around you thinks you’re a lunatic.  Plus the long distances between, say, where you live and where your children play football every damn day because you’re a spineless parent who didn’t say no exercise their angelic bodies on the football pitch, necessitate driving, which is why my butt is slowly morphing into the shape of my car seat.

Besides, we are moving into the season of festive eating, which will be followed quickly by the season of omigodimturningfifty and I think it’s time that I rid myself of that pesky baby weight.  The baby just turned nine, and although I hate to rush into anything, I guess I’d like to start my next decade sylph-shaped rather than car-shaped.

I swallowed my skepticism (along with more candy corn) and bought a fitbit.  Not the super-duper fitbit that measures everything, even the efficiency of my sleep (It’s simple: I don’t get enough sleep. Don’t need a piece of plastic to tell me that: just look at the baggage under my eyes.)

For the past few weeks, I’ve had the fitbit clipped to my pocket and every night it syncs to my computer.  It’s a little bit addictive, I have to say.  A person doesn’t want to think she can be so easily manipulated motivated by smiley faces and cheerful messages but . . . the other day I was in my office and had about 45 minutes before my next meeting. Usually I would check in on my other addiction — Tom and Lorenzo — but instead I went for a little walk outside.  Added a few thousand steps to my daily total … all in search of a CHAMP! button.

I don’t know if I’ve lost any weight yet, but now that I’ve finished the candy corn (imported from the States by a visiting friend, who I’m not sure I should thank or curse), I have a fighting chance. And yes, I know I could just choose not to eat the candy corn, but that seems just silly, given that Josh went to all the trouble of bringing it from Brooklyn.

I’m going to fitbit myself all the way to fifty, I guess, but just look at that little smiling face.  Wouldn’t that face make you take an extra step or two?






Continue Reading · on November 28, 2013 in Abu Dhabi, aging, exercise, growing up, me my own personal self, NaBloPoMo

Cheeseless, or How Much I Love My Mother

A confession: I love cheese. I’m almost Dutch that way – it’s not really a meal unless there’s a cheese product involved. I am happiest standing at the kitchen counter dipping pretzel sticks into flavored cream cheese. In fact, that’s what I had for lunch the other day.  I think about most food (outside of cookies) in terms of whether or not it can be considered a cheese-bearing vehicle.

I give you this information so that you’ll understand the magnitude of the bargain I made with my mother (from whom I learned my love of du fromage ). I’d been telling her that she should cut down on cheese because I’ve heard that cheese and dairy can contribute to inflammation and she’s got wicked arthritis, and because she’s been trying to lose weight. So damned if she didn’t call me on my challenge and say, basically, that she’d go cheese-free if I would.

Okay, it’s not quite Sophie’s choice, but still: love of cheese or love of mother?

Mom won. I tossed out the remains of the cream cheese this morning; my lunch was salsa and ham and Wasa (a combination that would’ve been vastly improved with a slab o’cheddar); I can’t even think about dinner.

I told the boys this morning about the bargain I’d made with grandma about going cheese-less and asked them who they thought would crack first. Without missing a beat, they both said “you, Mommy, no way you’re going to make it.”  Lovely, their faith in me, isn’t it?

So. An entire month without cheese. We’ll see.

I can always take solace in yogurt, I guess.  I agreed to cut out cheese, not dairy, after all. I mean, I love my mom, but I’m not crazy.

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Continue Reading · on November 1, 2012 in family, food, Kids, NaBloPoMo

Monday Listicles: Food (mostly 16th century style)

Stasha strikes again! Just before we left for a day exploring Hampton Court Palace, she posted the topic for her Monday Listicle: Food!

Hey. I can do food. I have a LOT to say about food. Mostly about how my kids don’t really eat “food” in any sense of the word. Watermelon? Nah. Strawberries? Ptooey. Cheese sandwich? Gagh!

So the first item on my list of “what’s to eat?” is this:

Exhibit 1: A little morning snack on the train to Hampton Court: Krispy Kreme Donuts. Yet another quality US export.

But let’s leave my sugar-soaked children behind and consider the 16th century cook, shall we? At Hampton Court, we went through the palace kitchens, which were capable of preparing food for 1200 people at a pop.  The kitchens of the palace have been set up to show us how 16th century cooks worked:

Exhibit 2: Finding a cut of meat to prepare for dinner:

Exhibit 3: Perhaps a shishkebab sort of preparation might be tasty?

Exhibit 4:  Getting the oven the right temperature can be tricky.

Exhibit 5: The finished product (bit of a bummer about the skewer holds, but that can be covered up with a sauce?)

Exhibit 6: No part of the animal will be wasted: anyone fancy a little kidney pie?

Exhibit 7: Need to have a non-carnivore option for our guests.  Perhaps a bird of some sort? Feathers optional.

Exhibit 8: Maybe you’d like to have some bread with your dinner?

And now back to the present day: Dinner for my youngest child: NO noodles. NO chicken tikka. NO hot dogs. Sandwich, please (at least I got a please). NO CRUSTS.

Exhibit 10: My own dinner. Um…perhaps I shouldn’t chastise my youngest son?  Here’s what I had:  two kinds of cheese, a lot of tomatoes, and a glass of rose.  Bliss.


Continue Reading · on August 8, 2011 in Children, family, Travel

Dinner Is Served

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Me: Carrots or peas with your chicken?

Caleb: Nuthin

Me (summoning the patience of Job): Right. But carrots or peas?

Caleb: Okay. Peas. FIVE PEAS. Cold ones. And I’m doing what Nancy said to do and holding my nose when I eat them.

In fact he ate SIX peas and stopped holding his nose when I pointed out that frozen peas have no flavor.

I consider this a major victory.

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Continue Reading · on October 12, 2009 in food

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