I'm in the middle of work but just wanted to take a moment to report that I got on the scale this morning and there was a major jump down, which is very encouraging because since this "no sugar" thing, I haven't lost too much weight, and finally told myself that I was gaining weight before, so cutting out sugar has stopped the weight GAIN and is helping me to gradually go down.
But today, I'm weighing in at a whopping 8 lbs less than when I left for Maryland a month ago! (I started the no sugar thing in Maryland.) Hooray! Hooray! Halloween, I have (almost) conquered you! You will not tempt me with your sugary sweetness!
And to tell the truth, I would say that I'm probably happier now than I am when I'm eating sugar because when I'm on sugar, I'm always thinking about what the next treat will be, and focused on getting my next "hit." Now, I don't even have to think about it!
So I am thinking that I'll probably apply this as a general life rule, and limit myself to sweets for special occasions. Like for the rest of this year, I think that I've decided that I'll go ahead and have sugar on my anniversary, birthday, and Christmas. How much damage can three days do (compared to a whole holiday season of binging)?
Showing posts with label dieting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dieting. Show all posts
Family Fitness!
This has been the first week of the Amore Family Fitness Initiative to Promote Better Health and Sleeping here in our home. My theory is that if we go to bed every evening at 11:00 and get up by 8:00 every day, and if we eat balanced meals, and if we get 1/2 hour of exercise every day, then Murray will sleep better. We'll see if I'm right. And if I am, I will patent my sleep prescription, write a book, and sell my health plan to millions.
(You probably won't notice, but it's after 11:00 p.m. and we're still up. Unfortunately I implemented the AFFITPBHAS during a week when I am super busy with work and deadlines. And I am blogging to procrastinate my work and deadlines.)
Murray and I get prizes if we each lose 15 lbs. For Murray, it's a Mac Mini, which he hopes will change our TV viewing experience forever. For me, it's a set of yellow chairs that I want desperately and will improve the quality of my life. And heck. If I lose 15 lbs and get 1/2 hour of exercise every day, I reduce my risk of developing type II diabetes by 58 percent!
Anyhoo. Tonight our 1/2 hour of exercise was swimming at our pool. Murray thought that "swimming for exercise" meant floating around in the water. Boy was he surprised when I forced him into doing the back stroke! But I was met with a little resistence, and I'm not talking about the water. So to make our water exercise more fun, Murray and I developed some pool olympics. Here are some games that may not be making it as official sports any time soon:
1) Racing across the pool by walking across the bottom of the pool. No hands allowed. No kicking allowed. You must walk across the bottom of the pool.---WINNER: MURRAY
2) Worming across the pool. Hands and ankles must stay together as you worm your way across the pool.---WINNER: CICADA
3) Bunny jumping across the pool. Hands must be tucked under the knees and you must hop across the pool.---WINNER: MURRAY
4) Kicking across the pool. Hands must be to your sides. You must face upwards. You can get across the pool only by kicking.---WINNER: CICADA
5) Paddling across the pool. Feet must be held still. You can get across the pool by using your arms only.---WINNER: MURRAY
6) Peeing in the pool.---WINNER: THE KIDS WHO WERE THERE AT 10:00 AT NIGHT ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. (What's up with that?)
There were some other water sports that I can't quite remember. Some involved hefting the other person. Oh---there was this great ab workout where you had to wrap your legs around the other person, keep your head above the water, and keep your hands out of the water.
So in the end, we both got a great workout. And I got to wear my new swim suit from Lime Ricki and Murray said I looked hot. And then we got back home and I helped myself to a second serving of spinach artichoke quiche.
By the way, Gulliver stayed in his swing in the corner of the pool area (far away from the pool edge) and seemed quite indifferent to his parents making fools of themselves. He's such a good boy.
(You probably won't notice, but it's after 11:00 p.m. and we're still up. Unfortunately I implemented the AFFITPBHAS during a week when I am super busy with work and deadlines. And I am blogging to procrastinate my work and deadlines.)
Murray and I get prizes if we each lose 15 lbs. For Murray, it's a Mac Mini, which he hopes will change our TV viewing experience forever. For me, it's a set of yellow chairs that I want desperately and will improve the quality of my life. And heck. If I lose 15 lbs and get 1/2 hour of exercise every day, I reduce my risk of developing type II diabetes by 58 percent!
Anyhoo. Tonight our 1/2 hour of exercise was swimming at our pool. Murray thought that "swimming for exercise" meant floating around in the water. Boy was he surprised when I forced him into doing the back stroke! But I was met with a little resistence, and I'm not talking about the water. So to make our water exercise more fun, Murray and I developed some pool olympics. Here are some games that may not be making it as official sports any time soon:
1) Racing across the pool by walking across the bottom of the pool. No hands allowed. No kicking allowed. You must walk across the bottom of the pool.---WINNER: MURRAY
2) Worming across the pool. Hands and ankles must stay together as you worm your way across the pool.---WINNER: CICADA
3) Bunny jumping across the pool. Hands must be tucked under the knees and you must hop across the pool.---WINNER: MURRAY
4) Kicking across the pool. Hands must be to your sides. You must face upwards. You can get across the pool only by kicking.---WINNER: CICADA
5) Paddling across the pool. Feet must be held still. You can get across the pool by using your arms only.---WINNER: MURRAY
6) Peeing in the pool.---WINNER: THE KIDS WHO WERE THERE AT 10:00 AT NIGHT ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. (What's up with that?)
There were some other water sports that I can't quite remember. Some involved hefting the other person. Oh---there was this great ab workout where you had to wrap your legs around the other person, keep your head above the water, and keep your hands out of the water.
So in the end, we both got a great workout. And I got to wear my new swim suit from Lime Ricki and Murray said I looked hot. And then we got back home and I helped myself to a second serving of spinach artichoke quiche.
By the way, Gulliver stayed in his swing in the corner of the pool area (far away from the pool edge) and seemed quite indifferent to his parents making fools of themselves. He's such a good boy.
My Dream
A few things that you should know before you read about my dream:
* The Boy has a new home in a nice new complex.
* Murray and I looked at a house the other day that has a stand-up shower in the master bedroom.
* Murray and I were at the Gateway recently and I was watching people bravely walk through the fountain in the middle of winter.
* I still have GDS and last night was Murray's work's Christmas party and even though I ate most of my dessert I still didn't spike my blood sugar because I am all kinds of awesome.
* I did laundry all day yesterday and finally laundered a turquoise maternity top with 3/4 length sleeves that I have been looking forward to wearing.
* Murray and I recently bought a fake rubber leech to give to my grandpa for Christmas because it's pretty much exactly what he'd want to find in his stocking.
Okay. That's about all I can account for. Here goes:
I was over at The Boy's house and I looked in his master bathroom, and he had a deluxe standing-only shower, but it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Not only did water come down from above, but there were jets placed around the base of the shower that shot water up from below, yielding the most deluxe luxury shower I've ever seen. I decided I wanted to try out his shower. But all of a sudden, the shower wasn't in his master bedroom. It was in the middle of his condo area. So I was disappointed that to enjoy the most deluxe luxury shower ever, I'd have to wear a bathing suit. But I was wearing a bathing suit and it was the greatest bathing suit I had ever seen! It was very retro and it was turquoise and it went really low on the hips and had a frilly skirt attached to it and it was one-piece and it actually fit my bust (which no other bathing suit has managed to do since puberty) and it looked darling, except that I hated that it had 3/4 length sleeves. I really wished it had no sleeves at all.
I don't remember experiencing the shower itself, actually. I think that by the time I was ready for it, the shower itself was closed. It was replaced by a large glass dome (about 5 feet tall and 10 feet in circumference) on which thousands of gourmet chocolates were artistically arranged. And so I started eating chocolates, avoiding the ones on the top of the dome, which had started to melt and had bird poop on them. And I ate my fill of chocolates.
But then I realized that I had to get home and the fastest way to get there was to run through a swampy field. So I ran through a swampy field barefoot, and when I got out of the field I thought that was dumb because it was probably full of leeches, and sure enough, there was a leech that was attached to my toe, so I had to get salt. So I went into the vacation home that my family was renting and El Senor and Reggie were in the kitchen and I asked them to give me the salt and they did, and it was a plastic, greasy salt grinder and I ground salt onto the leech and killed it.
THE END
Anyone care to interpret?
* The Boy has a new home in a nice new complex.
* Murray and I looked at a house the other day that has a stand-up shower in the master bedroom.
* Murray and I were at the Gateway recently and I was watching people bravely walk through the fountain in the middle of winter.
* I still have GDS and last night was Murray's work's Christmas party and even though I ate most of my dessert I still didn't spike my blood sugar because I am all kinds of awesome.
* I did laundry all day yesterday and finally laundered a turquoise maternity top with 3/4 length sleeves that I have been looking forward to wearing.
* Murray and I recently bought a fake rubber leech to give to my grandpa for Christmas because it's pretty much exactly what he'd want to find in his stocking.
Okay. That's about all I can account for. Here goes:
I was over at The Boy's house and I looked in his master bathroom, and he had a deluxe standing-only shower, but it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Not only did water come down from above, but there were jets placed around the base of the shower that shot water up from below, yielding the most deluxe luxury shower I've ever seen. I decided I wanted to try out his shower. But all of a sudden, the shower wasn't in his master bedroom. It was in the middle of his condo area. So I was disappointed that to enjoy the most deluxe luxury shower ever, I'd have to wear a bathing suit. But I was wearing a bathing suit and it was the greatest bathing suit I had ever seen! It was very retro and it was turquoise and it went really low on the hips and had a frilly skirt attached to it and it was one-piece and it actually fit my bust (which no other bathing suit has managed to do since puberty) and it looked darling, except that I hated that it had 3/4 length sleeves. I really wished it had no sleeves at all.
I don't remember experiencing the shower itself, actually. I think that by the time I was ready for it, the shower itself was closed. It was replaced by a large glass dome (about 5 feet tall and 10 feet in circumference) on which thousands of gourmet chocolates were artistically arranged. And so I started eating chocolates, avoiding the ones on the top of the dome, which had started to melt and had bird poop on them. And I ate my fill of chocolates.
But then I realized that I had to get home and the fastest way to get there was to run through a swampy field. So I ran through a swampy field barefoot, and when I got out of the field I thought that was dumb because it was probably full of leeches, and sure enough, there was a leech that was attached to my toe, so I had to get salt. So I went into the vacation home that my family was renting and El Senor and Reggie were in the kitchen and I asked them to give me the salt and they did, and it was a plastic, greasy salt grinder and I ground salt onto the leech and killed it.
THE END
Anyone care to interpret?
My Big Cheat
I am pretty sure that everyone out there reading my blog thinks that I'm perfect, and they would not be far off. But today, I'd like to talk about a moment when I was not perfect. I cheated.
Last night, Murray and I went out for our date night dinner. With gestational diabetes, finding restaurants is not always the easiest thing. I mean, you can pretty much rule out any Italian place, for starters. So we've even opted to eat in for a few of our date nights. But last night I wanted to try Spark, a new restaurant/lounge that I've seen downtown Provo. When I first saw it, I was a little hesitant to try it because although it looked hip and cool from the outside, the sign said, "Restaurant/Lounge" and I haven't been to a lounge before and I really didn't know what to expect. But recently a friend recommended the restaurant to us, so we decided to go.
Stepping into Spark feels a little like stepping out of Provo. In a really good way. Although we showed up at prime time on a Friday night, we were seated immediately. (This is something that I would like to see change since it makes me scared that now we've discovered this place, not enough people will be enjoying it to keep it in business.)
Our hostess who seated us explained the menu a little. They offer "small plates" or appetizers and she recommended ordering three or four small plates as the ideal way to dine there. Then she directed our attention to the bar menu, which I didn't pay much attention to because 1) alcohol and 2) fruit juice (forbidden to me while gestating). When our waitress came by shortly afterward, she said, "I'm sure that our hostess explained our non-alcoholic bar to you." Suddenly that menu became much more interesting to me. The drinks look really delicious and creative and I am excited to go back after the baby comes and try something out. She told us that the Shirley Temple comes topped with cotton candy, which I thought was a little bizarre until I actually saw someone's. Then I wanted one immediately. BUT this isn't where I cheat. So rest assured, I'm still waiting a while to try their drink menu.
Murray and I ordered some fries with aioli garlic dip, braised beef with cabbage, and crispy pork on polenta. Since I had no idea how many carbs to expect with this combination, I told Murray that we might even consider dessert (so that I could have one bite) depending on how the food was prepared.
The presentation of the food was fabulous. We were served our fries first. They were very thin, shoe-string fries cooked to perfection. While we were eating the fries, a waitress brought out a taste from the kitchen---an apple cream soup---for us to try out. What a taste experience! Our soup came in tiny pots with tiny spoons. And it tasted like creamy apple bacon. Soooooo good and such a pleasant surprise from the kitchen! Next came our braised beef and cabbage and our crispy pork on polenta. The braised beef and cabbage may not have seemed as gourmet to me because it was a lot like cabbage rolls that I had regularly while growing up because of Eastern European immigrants to Canada. But it was certainly delicious. (I've never been known to say no to a cabbage roll!) The crispy pork on polenta was definitely my favorite. It was topped with perfectly sweet grapefruit.
The portions were small, which is the sort of thing that you respect about a place like this. It means that you can enjoy the food experience without feeling stuffed and overdone. It also means that there's room for dessert.
And this is where the cheating comes in. On the menu was fried chocolate pudding. And darn it, I have been wanting a real dessert for what seems like an eternity now. And this sounded too good to pass up. Small portions of chocolate pudding are coated in an almond flour and then briefly fried to crisp the shell. It is served with orange ice cream to complement the chocolate.
And here is my paragraph of justification: My doctor said she was part of a control group for gestational diabetes where she didn't have it, but she had to test her blood at certain times during the day. One day, she ate a lot of carbs without really realizing it and when she tested her blood, it was in the 160s. I'm never allowed to go over 130, and I typically don't (when I do, it's never even as high as 140). So I figured that if, like my doctor, I didn't have GDS, sometimes my blood sugar would naturally be higher because of the food choices that I make, then with GDS, it wouldn't hurt to go over just once. And later, my sister-in-law pointed out that when women don't manage their GDS properly, they get put on insulin, but it takes a couple of weeks of improperly eating before they're switched to insulin. Anyway, at the restaurant, I also reasoned that exercise is like a shot of insulin, so Murray and I could go swimming in our club house pool after dinner so that I could help my insulin deliver the glucose to my cells.
Okay. Justification done. Now let's move on to gratification. This dessert was AMAZING. "Pudding" does not describe what was in these crispy almond-flour shells. It's more like a rich chocolate not unlike pots de creme (which my mom would make growing up and it still seems gourmet... except for when we'd bastardize it by eating it with marshmallow peeps and call it pots de peep...). The ice cream (which Murray expected to be a bright orange sherbet and wasn't very excited about it) was a perfectly creamy orange. The whole experience was wonderful---so wonderful! Of course, the problem was that there were three little puddings and only two of us. But then Murray said that if I wanted to have a second one, I could have it all to myself. And then I almost broke down in tears in the middle of the restaurant.
I highly recommend this restaurant to anyone in the area. It was a fun experience and we'll definitely be going back. The prices were extremely reasonable (our bill came to $28, which is what we paid recently for a meal at Bajio) and the experience is far beyond run-of-the-mill Utah dining.
(And in case you're still wondering about my blood sugar... we got home and got our bathing suits on and headed over to the clubhouse, only to discover that the entire pool had been taken over by a singles ward activity where they were playing an organized sport, so slipping into the pool would have been like stepping onto a basketball court during someone else's game. I am not allowed to do hot tubs as a pregnant woman, lest I cook my fetus. So basically Murray and I dangled our legs in the hot tub for 40 minutes, hoping that the awful singles activity would eventually end, and dodging the football whenever it came hurling at our faces. But I kicked my legs for all of those 40 minutes. It ultimately didn't help too much. My blood sugar was 160. Little baby Leland, I'm very sorry for any fat cells that you might have put on due to my indulgence. And a note to the singles who monopolized the pool even though they don't pay for it and we do: When Murray and I went home, we *****[censored]*****. So there.)
Last night, Murray and I went out for our date night dinner. With gestational diabetes, finding restaurants is not always the easiest thing. I mean, you can pretty much rule out any Italian place, for starters. So we've even opted to eat in for a few of our date nights. But last night I wanted to try Spark, a new restaurant/lounge that I've seen downtown Provo. When I first saw it, I was a little hesitant to try it because although it looked hip and cool from the outside, the sign said, "Restaurant/Lounge" and I haven't been to a lounge before and I really didn't know what to expect. But recently a friend recommended the restaurant to us, so we decided to go.
Stepping into Spark feels a little like stepping out of Provo. In a really good way. Although we showed up at prime time on a Friday night, we were seated immediately. (This is something that I would like to see change since it makes me scared that now we've discovered this place, not enough people will be enjoying it to keep it in business.)
Our hostess who seated us explained the menu a little. They offer "small plates" or appetizers and she recommended ordering three or four small plates as the ideal way to dine there. Then she directed our attention to the bar menu, which I didn't pay much attention to because 1) alcohol and 2) fruit juice (forbidden to me while gestating). When our waitress came by shortly afterward, she said, "I'm sure that our hostess explained our non-alcoholic bar to you." Suddenly that menu became much more interesting to me. The drinks look really delicious and creative and I am excited to go back after the baby comes and try something out. She told us that the Shirley Temple comes topped with cotton candy, which I thought was a little bizarre until I actually saw someone's. Then I wanted one immediately. BUT this isn't where I cheat. So rest assured, I'm still waiting a while to try their drink menu.
Murray and I ordered some fries with aioli garlic dip, braised beef with cabbage, and crispy pork on polenta. Since I had no idea how many carbs to expect with this combination, I told Murray that we might even consider dessert (so that I could have one bite) depending on how the food was prepared.
The presentation of the food was fabulous. We were served our fries first. They were very thin, shoe-string fries cooked to perfection. While we were eating the fries, a waitress brought out a taste from the kitchen---an apple cream soup---for us to try out. What a taste experience! Our soup came in tiny pots with tiny spoons. And it tasted like creamy apple bacon. Soooooo good and such a pleasant surprise from the kitchen! Next came our braised beef and cabbage and our crispy pork on polenta. The braised beef and cabbage may not have seemed as gourmet to me because it was a lot like cabbage rolls that I had regularly while growing up because of Eastern European immigrants to Canada. But it was certainly delicious. (I've never been known to say no to a cabbage roll!) The crispy pork on polenta was definitely my favorite. It was topped with perfectly sweet grapefruit.
The portions were small, which is the sort of thing that you respect about a place like this. It means that you can enjoy the food experience without feeling stuffed and overdone. It also means that there's room for dessert.
And this is where the cheating comes in. On the menu was fried chocolate pudding. And darn it, I have been wanting a real dessert for what seems like an eternity now. And this sounded too good to pass up. Small portions of chocolate pudding are coated in an almond flour and then briefly fried to crisp the shell. It is served with orange ice cream to complement the chocolate.
And here is my paragraph of justification: My doctor said she was part of a control group for gestational diabetes where she didn't have it, but she had to test her blood at certain times during the day. One day, she ate a lot of carbs without really realizing it and when she tested her blood, it was in the 160s. I'm never allowed to go over 130, and I typically don't (when I do, it's never even as high as 140). So I figured that if, like my doctor, I didn't have GDS, sometimes my blood sugar would naturally be higher because of the food choices that I make, then with GDS, it wouldn't hurt to go over just once. And later, my sister-in-law pointed out that when women don't manage their GDS properly, they get put on insulin, but it takes a couple of weeks of improperly eating before they're switched to insulin. Anyway, at the restaurant, I also reasoned that exercise is like a shot of insulin, so Murray and I could go swimming in our club house pool after dinner so that I could help my insulin deliver the glucose to my cells.
Okay. Justification done. Now let's move on to gratification. This dessert was AMAZING. "Pudding" does not describe what was in these crispy almond-flour shells. It's more like a rich chocolate not unlike pots de creme (which my mom would make growing up and it still seems gourmet... except for when we'd bastardize it by eating it with marshmallow peeps and call it pots de peep...). The ice cream (which Murray expected to be a bright orange sherbet and wasn't very excited about it) was a perfectly creamy orange. The whole experience was wonderful---so wonderful! Of course, the problem was that there were three little puddings and only two of us. But then Murray said that if I wanted to have a second one, I could have it all to myself. And then I almost broke down in tears in the middle of the restaurant.
I highly recommend this restaurant to anyone in the area. It was a fun experience and we'll definitely be going back. The prices were extremely reasonable (our bill came to $28, which is what we paid recently for a meal at Bajio) and the experience is far beyond run-of-the-mill Utah dining.
(And in case you're still wondering about my blood sugar... we got home and got our bathing suits on and headed over to the clubhouse, only to discover that the entire pool had been taken over by a singles ward activity where they were playing an organized sport, so slipping into the pool would have been like stepping onto a basketball court during someone else's game. I am not allowed to do hot tubs as a pregnant woman, lest I cook my fetus. So basically Murray and I dangled our legs in the hot tub for 40 minutes, hoping that the awful singles activity would eventually end, and dodging the football whenever it came hurling at our faces. But I kicked my legs for all of those 40 minutes. It ultimately didn't help too much. My blood sugar was 160. Little baby Leland, I'm very sorry for any fat cells that you might have put on due to my indulgence. And a note to the singles who monopolized the pool even though they don't pay for it and we do: When Murray and I went home, we *****[censored]*****. So there.)
Extreme Salad
Yesterday Murray and I went out to eat before I went to teach my class. He asked if Mexican food would be okay and suggested a Mexican restaurant close to where my class is held. I figured I may as well give it a try. If I go to a restaurant, I have to read every single detail of the menu to really figure out what my options are. I figured that there would be something at this restaurant that I could eat.
As I was reading the menu, I concluded that my safest options were the Mexican omelets available or a salad. Ordering a salad seemed risky because little Mexican dives aren't necessarily known for their great salads. But the eggs just didn't sound appealing to me. So I ordered the fajita salad, which boasted grilled chicken (protein), peppers, onions, lettuce, and tomatoes (non-starchy vegetables), guacamole (fat), and cheese (more protein), on a fried tortilla (a couple bites could equal a starch). I figured I'd go for it, but expected to get some plain boring salad with gross iceberg lettuce.
This is what I got.
I'm still not really sure if you can grasp the magnitude of this salad even from the picture. It was the hugest salad I have ever seen in my entire life. And it was loaded with really good stuff. So I ate about 1/4 of it. When the waitress came to take away my plate, she looked at how much was left and asked, "What? Not very hungry, princess?"
As I was reading the menu, I concluded that my safest options were the Mexican omelets available or a salad. Ordering a salad seemed risky because little Mexican dives aren't necessarily known for their great salads. But the eggs just didn't sound appealing to me. So I ordered the fajita salad, which boasted grilled chicken (protein), peppers, onions, lettuce, and tomatoes (non-starchy vegetables), guacamole (fat), and cheese (more protein), on a fried tortilla (a couple bites could equal a starch). I figured I'd go for it, but expected to get some plain boring salad with gross iceberg lettuce.
This is what I got.
I'm still not really sure if you can grasp the magnitude of this salad even from the picture. It was the hugest salad I have ever seen in my entire life. And it was loaded with really good stuff. So I ate about 1/4 of it. When the waitress came to take away my plate, she looked at how much was left and asked, "What? Not very hungry, princess?"
Count your blessings...
So, in case you haven't heard, I have gestational diabetes. Have I mentioned that already? Well, in case I have, today I'm going to give you the cold hard truth. How I really feel about gestational diabetes.
It's pretty easy to complain about the limited diet and the finger pricking. But to be honest, I mostly have a positive attitude about this. The benefits to having (and managing properly) gestational diabetes far outweigh the cons. Here's why I see gestational diabetes as a handful of blessings rather than a punishment.
I have poor eating habits. There have been times in my life when I've been able to clean them up a little, but I sink back into bad habits. Because poor eating habits with gestational diabetes would have negative consequences for my baby, it's much easier to adhere to all the rules. I'm not just doing it for me. I'm doing it for someone else. This gives me the discipline to follow my diet exactly and not cheat because I'm not just cheating myself.
I have three full months where I have to follow these new and improved eating habits, which is more than enough time to establish real, lasting changes.
My poor eating habits didn't just include eating all the wrong things, but they also included going long periods of time without eating, then eating large meals. I have always known that it's healthiest to eat smaller meals throughout the day, but I've never been able to apply that. Now that I have to, I find that it's much more easy and manageable than I'd thought.
Murray and I also got into the habit of eating out a LOT. Especially while I was working in Salt Lake City, it seemed impossible to put together a homemade meal. Those habits that we established carried over even after I started working from home. I've always wanted to be better about making meals at home, but until now, I haven't been able to achieve that goal. Now it's much easier for me to make my own meals rather than eat out because I'm in complete control of the ingredients, so I know what I'm eating and how much of it I can eat. We are eating food that is higher quality, more healthy, and lots less expensive!
I am not good at eating breakfast. Now I have to. Every day before Murray goes to work, I throw together a little breakfast for the two of us. It's not anything spectacular. Lately it's just been a whole wheat ego waffle with peanut butter and a yogurt. But it's nice to have that time to sit and visit with Murray before he goes off to work.
I am the type of person who has a hard time controlling portions. If I make a batch of cookies, and they're all sitting in the house, I don't limit myself to just one a day. I will easily eat ten a day. I usually help myself to seconds at dinner. Now I'm learning discipline and portion control and learning that it really is okay to have just one cookie. In fact, El Senor made me these absolutely delicious cookies. He gave me two. I had one one day and saved the other for the next because I knew there would be no way for me to eat them both without spiking my blood sugar. I think I enjoyed the cookies more because now I'm not used to having sweets at every meal. So now I'm thinking that I'll need to make a batch of that cookie recipe and just freeze it all. Then, I can just make four cookies at a time (two for me, spread out over two days, and two for Murray).
I'm making time to go for walks and get in exercise. It's nice to get outside when I'm indoors all day long! Murray and I have been able to enjoy several walks together. It's nice to stroll along in the evening holding hands.
I'm learning that my happiness does not depend on food. Although I love helping myself to lots of ice cream or lots of molten lava chocolate cake or lots of cookies, I'm learning now that having more sweets does not increase my overall happiness. Right now, I feel just as fulfilled and just as happy as I did before my diagnosis when I could eat anything I wanted. I am enjoying the same quality of life. The pleasure that I get from eating food is gone as soon as the food has been devoured. And the lasting effects of those food choices actually have a negative impact on my overall health and well being (and weight!). So I'm learning now that I don't have to indulge every craving to be happy, and in fact, I will be happier and healthier if I don't indulge every craving.
Finally, having gestational diabetes for three months teaches me what life could be like for me if I don't make permanent changes now. I can lower my chances of developing Type II diabetes now by applying these positive changes. And then I don't have to deal with pricking my finger and testing my blood every day for the rest of my life. So this experience is giving me the confidence to make the right decisions for me and my health.
So how's THAT for the glass being half full? You're probably all jealous of my condition now. Also, I need to make sure that I read this post AFTER the baby arrives and I have my eating freedom back. No sense in forgetting all the good lessons I'm learning and slipping back into bad habits!
It's pretty easy to complain about the limited diet and the finger pricking. But to be honest, I mostly have a positive attitude about this. The benefits to having (and managing properly) gestational diabetes far outweigh the cons. Here's why I see gestational diabetes as a handful of blessings rather than a punishment.
I have poor eating habits. There have been times in my life when I've been able to clean them up a little, but I sink back into bad habits. Because poor eating habits with gestational diabetes would have negative consequences for my baby, it's much easier to adhere to all the rules. I'm not just doing it for me. I'm doing it for someone else. This gives me the discipline to follow my diet exactly and not cheat because I'm not just cheating myself.
I have three full months where I have to follow these new and improved eating habits, which is more than enough time to establish real, lasting changes.
My poor eating habits didn't just include eating all the wrong things, but they also included going long periods of time without eating, then eating large meals. I have always known that it's healthiest to eat smaller meals throughout the day, but I've never been able to apply that. Now that I have to, I find that it's much more easy and manageable than I'd thought.
Murray and I also got into the habit of eating out a LOT. Especially while I was working in Salt Lake City, it seemed impossible to put together a homemade meal. Those habits that we established carried over even after I started working from home. I've always wanted to be better about making meals at home, but until now, I haven't been able to achieve that goal. Now it's much easier for me to make my own meals rather than eat out because I'm in complete control of the ingredients, so I know what I'm eating and how much of it I can eat. We are eating food that is higher quality, more healthy, and lots less expensive!
I am not good at eating breakfast. Now I have to. Every day before Murray goes to work, I throw together a little breakfast for the two of us. It's not anything spectacular. Lately it's just been a whole wheat ego waffle with peanut butter and a yogurt. But it's nice to have that time to sit and visit with Murray before he goes off to work.
I am the type of person who has a hard time controlling portions. If I make a batch of cookies, and they're all sitting in the house, I don't limit myself to just one a day. I will easily eat ten a day. I usually help myself to seconds at dinner. Now I'm learning discipline and portion control and learning that it really is okay to have just one cookie. In fact, El Senor made me these absolutely delicious cookies. He gave me two. I had one one day and saved the other for the next because I knew there would be no way for me to eat them both without spiking my blood sugar. I think I enjoyed the cookies more because now I'm not used to having sweets at every meal. So now I'm thinking that I'll need to make a batch of that cookie recipe and just freeze it all. Then, I can just make four cookies at a time (two for me, spread out over two days, and two for Murray).
I'm making time to go for walks and get in exercise. It's nice to get outside when I'm indoors all day long! Murray and I have been able to enjoy several walks together. It's nice to stroll along in the evening holding hands.
I'm learning that my happiness does not depend on food. Although I love helping myself to lots of ice cream or lots of molten lava chocolate cake or lots of cookies, I'm learning now that having more sweets does not increase my overall happiness. Right now, I feel just as fulfilled and just as happy as I did before my diagnosis when I could eat anything I wanted. I am enjoying the same quality of life. The pleasure that I get from eating food is gone as soon as the food has been devoured. And the lasting effects of those food choices actually have a negative impact on my overall health and well being (and weight!). So I'm learning now that I don't have to indulge every craving to be happy, and in fact, I will be happier and healthier if I don't indulge every craving.
Finally, having gestational diabetes for three months teaches me what life could be like for me if I don't make permanent changes now. I can lower my chances of developing Type II diabetes now by applying these positive changes. And then I don't have to deal with pricking my finger and testing my blood every day for the rest of my life. So this experience is giving me the confidence to make the right decisions for me and my health.
So how's THAT for the glass being half full? You're probably all jealous of my condition now. Also, I need to make sure that I read this post AFTER the baby arrives and I have my eating freedom back. No sense in forgetting all the good lessons I'm learning and slipping back into bad habits!
Today's Special
Today was jam-packed full of action. I had a day bookended by appointments, and I needed to find some good filler for between my appointment times. Here is what I did.
9:00 a.m.: Dentist appointment. Refused an X-ray. Changed my insurance information. Received praise for non-bleeding gums and general excellent oral hygiene during pregnancy. Didn't admit that I never floss and I brush my teeth only once a day. Expressed concern about my overbite that has returned since my braces in high school. Was informed that I'd need another round of full-on braces to fix the problem, except this time my parents wouldn't be paying for it.
9:45-10:45 a.m.: Wandered around Target. Looked for clothes for Jenny that we had found online, but didn't find them. Tried on two pairs of maternity pants and decided not to buy them because they'd need hemming. Looked at a collection of adorable tiny bowls and plates and considered buying them to help me with my portion control, but decided that they were unnecessary purchases and I need to cut back on unnecessary purchases. I can continue to just use my little ramekins for small food portions. Looked at baby aisle and got excited for when I actually get to start buying baby soap. Browsed shampoo section to choose new shampoo, while talking on the phone with Jenny. Sniffed new shampoo, only to accidentally squirt it up my nose. Complained to Jenny about accidentally squirting shampoo up my nose. Got off the phone with Jenny. Chose several shampoo/hygiene items. Looked down to see a blob of shampoo on my sweater. Took a picture to send to Jenny to tell her that the shampoo didn't only go up my nose. Grabbed something really funny for Murray that I can't share with the internet until he receives it, but just you wait. It's going to be good. Made purchases and left.
11:00-11:15 a.m.: Went to Motherhood Maternity to see if they had a maternity skirt that's suitable for the winter. Got one on sale for $20. Considered an adorable maternity coat for a mere $60, but decided that that, too, was probably an unnecessary purchase, or at least a purchase that required further consideration. Question to the public: Can I just get away with using my regular coats during the winter, but not buttoning all the buttons?
11:45-1:00p.m.: Went to a spur-of-the-moment hair appointment. Got to know my new hairstylist really well. Promised to make one more appointment in December right before the baby comes.
1:10-1:45 p.m.: Ate lunch at Guru's where I felt I could easily find something to suit my diet. Filled out my voter registration form. Wondered who goes to restaurants alone. Decided it must be diabetics who can't actually procrastinate eating their meal until they make it home several hours later. [UPDATE: Just tested my blood sugar and apparently the Guru's food I thought was safe was NOT safe.]
1:45-2:00 p.m.: Brought my registration form to the county clerk's office. Waited in line for one minute despite the fact that the place was packed. Expressed my disappointment that during my recent marriage and name change, several of the forms I filled out had a box that said "Check here if you'd like to register to vote today" and despite the fact that I checked that box every time, I still had never been registered to vote.
2:00-2:05 p.m.: Ran into Jenny on my way out of the county clerk's office. (If it weren't for her I probably wouldn't have registered in time. If it weren't for me, she probably wouldn't have registered in person.) Found out that she used an apple to brush her teeth. Considered that perhaps her oral hygiene habits are worse than mine.
2:10-2:30 p.m.: Had my rhoGAM shot at the hospital. Sat in the largest chair I have ever sat in (they don't discriminate against the really really really really obese). Got a shot in the hip. Called my mom to tell her she was a fool for scaring me about being rH negative my whole life because that shot wasn't any different from a flu shot. (During one of her deliveries, nearby there was a stoic woman who didn't make a peep during her entire labor and delivery. When they gave her the shot for being rH negative, she let out a yelp, or screamed or something. But apparently they have made great medical advancements in the past three decades.)
So that has been my day today.
9:00 a.m.: Dentist appointment. Refused an X-ray. Changed my insurance information. Received praise for non-bleeding gums and general excellent oral hygiene during pregnancy. Didn't admit that I never floss and I brush my teeth only once a day. Expressed concern about my overbite that has returned since my braces in high school. Was informed that I'd need another round of full-on braces to fix the problem, except this time my parents wouldn't be paying for it.
9:45-10:45 a.m.: Wandered around Target. Looked for clothes for Jenny that we had found online, but didn't find them. Tried on two pairs of maternity pants and decided not to buy them because they'd need hemming. Looked at a collection of adorable tiny bowls and plates and considered buying them to help me with my portion control, but decided that they were unnecessary purchases and I need to cut back on unnecessary purchases. I can continue to just use my little ramekins for small food portions. Looked at baby aisle and got excited for when I actually get to start buying baby soap. Browsed shampoo section to choose new shampoo, while talking on the phone with Jenny. Sniffed new shampoo, only to accidentally squirt it up my nose. Complained to Jenny about accidentally squirting shampoo up my nose. Got off the phone with Jenny. Chose several shampoo/hygiene items. Looked down to see a blob of shampoo on my sweater. Took a picture to send to Jenny to tell her that the shampoo didn't only go up my nose. Grabbed something really funny for Murray that I can't share with the internet until he receives it, but just you wait. It's going to be good. Made purchases and left.
11:00-11:15 a.m.: Went to Motherhood Maternity to see if they had a maternity skirt that's suitable for the winter. Got one on sale for $20. Considered an adorable maternity coat for a mere $60, but decided that that, too, was probably an unnecessary purchase, or at least a purchase that required further consideration. Question to the public: Can I just get away with using my regular coats during the winter, but not buttoning all the buttons?
11:45-1:00p.m.: Went to a spur-of-the-moment hair appointment. Got to know my new hairstylist really well. Promised to make one more appointment in December right before the baby comes.
1:10-1:45 p.m.: Ate lunch at Guru's where I felt I could easily find something to suit my diet. Filled out my voter registration form. Wondered who goes to restaurants alone. Decided it must be diabetics who can't actually procrastinate eating their meal until they make it home several hours later. [UPDATE: Just tested my blood sugar and apparently the Guru's food I thought was safe was NOT safe.]
1:45-2:00 p.m.: Brought my registration form to the county clerk's office. Waited in line for one minute despite the fact that the place was packed. Expressed my disappointment that during my recent marriage and name change, several of the forms I filled out had a box that said "Check here if you'd like to register to vote today" and despite the fact that I checked that box every time, I still had never been registered to vote.
2:00-2:05 p.m.: Ran into Jenny on my way out of the county clerk's office. (If it weren't for her I probably wouldn't have registered in time. If it weren't for me, she probably wouldn't have registered in person.) Found out that she used an apple to brush her teeth. Considered that perhaps her oral hygiene habits are worse than mine.
2:10-2:30 p.m.: Had my rhoGAM shot at the hospital. Sat in the largest chair I have ever sat in (they don't discriminate against the really really really really obese). Got a shot in the hip. Called my mom to tell her she was a fool for scaring me about being rH negative my whole life because that shot wasn't any different from a flu shot. (During one of her deliveries, nearby there was a stoic woman who didn't make a peep during her entire labor and delivery. When they gave her the shot for being rH negative, she let out a yelp, or screamed or something. But apparently they have made great medical advancements in the past three decades.)
So that has been my day today.
A GB Update
So I know you're all dying to know more about my gestational diabetes and the food that I eat. I know that it's about the only thing that I think about, so I assume it's the only thing you're all thinking about, too.
I'm definitely getting used to this new eating lifestyle. It's really not as bad as I thought it was. Especially since Jenny taught me that eating one fun-size Snickers bar won't spike my blood sugar, and that I can count 1/2 cup of ice cream at dinner as a milk and a fat. Phew!
I think that right now the biggest challenge is finding creative ways to have my protein at five out of six meals. I mean, there's boiled eggs. There's string cheese. There's meat. There's also peanut butter and nuts, but I think that technically I'm supposed to not go crazy on those foods because of their high fat content. I think. I did buy some edamame packs at Costco yesterday so that Murray and I can have edamame as part of our evening snack. It's easy to have meat at real meals, but it's working protein into my snacks that makes me get creative.
Anyway. Last night, I had pumpkin soup with shrimp pineapple spinach nut salad. I made up the salad. Can you tell? Oh, and I definitely had ice cream for dessert. I realized that although one cup of pumpkin counts as a starch, I can have WAY more than 1 cup of pumpkin soup because there's twice as much broth (which is free) than there is pumpkin. So I got two cups of pumpkin soup last night. And that was plenty.
Here's me with my lunch today. See? Not bad at all. I get two slices of bread for my sandwich because I use reduced calorie bread. AND I finished off lunch with a mini Snickers. Not bad at all. Just ignore the fact that I haven't had time to shower yet today.
I'm definitely getting used to this new eating lifestyle. It's really not as bad as I thought it was. Especially since Jenny taught me that eating one fun-size Snickers bar won't spike my blood sugar, and that I can count 1/2 cup of ice cream at dinner as a milk and a fat. Phew!
I think that right now the biggest challenge is finding creative ways to have my protein at five out of six meals. I mean, there's boiled eggs. There's string cheese. There's meat. There's also peanut butter and nuts, but I think that technically I'm supposed to not go crazy on those foods because of their high fat content. I think. I did buy some edamame packs at Costco yesterday so that Murray and I can have edamame as part of our evening snack. It's easy to have meat at real meals, but it's working protein into my snacks that makes me get creative.
Anyway. Last night, I had pumpkin soup with shrimp pineapple spinach nut salad. I made up the salad. Can you tell? Oh, and I definitely had ice cream for dessert. I realized that although one cup of pumpkin counts as a starch, I can have WAY more than 1 cup of pumpkin soup because there's twice as much broth (which is free) than there is pumpkin. So I got two cups of pumpkin soup last night. And that was plenty.
Here's me with my lunch today. See? Not bad at all. I get two slices of bread for my sandwich because I use reduced calorie bread. AND I finished off lunch with a mini Snickers. Not bad at all. Just ignore the fact that I haven't had time to shower yet today.
Menu Planning
My mom has commented that I don't post as often as I used to after marrying Murray. She says that I am a lot happier and have less to complain about. While that's definitely true. I think that there's also the factor that when I was single, I had no evening company or schedule, so I'd just sit around with my computer. Now, the computer gets turned off every day in time for Murray to come home. So. You know. There's that.
BUT with gestational diabetes, I now have something to complain about, so my posting is up. Maybe my mom was onto something.
Yesterday I went in for my diabetes education. I thought it was going to be a class with several people, so I was curious as to how they'd educate me about everything regarding my specific needs in a class setting. I was wrong, however. Everything was one-on-one. First I met with a woman who explained my new eating habits and schedule. She gave me a book that has information about all my meals and what foods I can eat and stuff. Fruit juice has been stricken off the list entirely for the rest of my pregnancy, which is ironic since I actually increased my fruit juice intake BECAUSE OF my pregnancy. Anyhoo. What I couldn't help but notice is that in the food index of my book (it's really more like a beefy pamphlet or a wimpy magazine), chocolate isn't even listed. Seriously?
Then I met with a woman who explained to me how I need to poke holes in my fingers six times a day to test my blood sugar. Are you kidding me? And I need to pee on a stick every morning. And record it all. And I need to eat all my meals and prick my fingers at set times.
So last night I entered in six alarms on my iPhone so that I can be reminded when to eat every day, since I tend to be a person who forgets to eat and gets around to it when it's convenient. The first one went off this morning at 8:30. So I immediately pricked my finger, measured my blood sugar, went downstairs, prepared a breakfast for me and Murray, and ate breakfast. And then I realized that I forgot to pee on the stick. After I'd already peed. So I mustered up enough pee to pee on the stick and then I had to compare the stick's color to the color scheme on the pee-stick packaging. Since Murray is the color expert, I called him over to ask his advice and tell me what color my pee stick was closest to. After determining the right color, Murray commented, "You know, all this is kindof fun when you think about it. You get to use a cool little blood machine every day, and then practice color theory with your urine!"
I still have a few questions about my menu, since I was educated so quickly! For example, here are my nutritional requirements for dinner every day. I was pretty stumped about what to do last night while I was looking at them:
3 carbohydrate group
- 1 starch
- 1 fruit
- 1 milk
- non-starchy vegetables
3 meat or meat substitutes (3 oz)
2 fats
So breaking this down for you, it goes something like this.
My one starch that I get to eat at dinner is equivalent to 1/3 cup of pasta or rice, or one slice of bread, or 1/2 cup of potatoes. And other things of the like. But you get that it's a really small portion.
My one fruit is pretty self-explanatory.
My one milk can be either milk or yogurt. I don't drink milk, and yogurt doesn't really seem to go with an evening meal.
I am allowed up to 1 1/2 cups of cooked non-starchy vegetables or up to 3 cups of raw.
My 3 meats means 3 ounces of meat or meat substitute like beans, cheese, eggs, etc. Have you ever seen a 3-oz steak?
My 2 fats means that I've got to add a bit of butter or oil or something to my meal.
So what would you make with these specifications? No, seriously. Please leave comments about what you would prepare given this breakdown. I will love you forever. After I cried a little bit (a lot) about how this was absolutely impossible and it seemed that I'd be doomed to eating mismatched meals for the rest of my pregnancy, I received inspiration. Here's our meal last night:
SALAD NICOISE with Cherry Smoothies for dessert
Salad for 2:
1 can of green beans, drained
1 bag of salad greens (I like the spring mix)
2 small tomatoes
(all totaled, equals less than 3 cups of veggies each)
1 cup of boiled small red potatoes with skins
(at 1/2 cup each, this equals one starch---oh, and I gave Murray more than 1/2 cup because I'm kind like that)
1 can tuna, drained
2 hard boiled eggs, cut up
(all totalled, 3 oz of meat each)
some green olives (for Murray's half, although if I liked green olives, this would have counted as a fat)
homemade dressing made with garlic-herbed olive oil, dijon mustard, and cider vinegar
(two fats!)
Smoothies for 2:
2 cups of light vanilla soy milk
24 frozen cherries
(There's my milk and my fruit!)
After the meal, we were both really surprised to find out that we were both really full. So, as long as I can keep coming up with inventive ways to put my ingredient list together, I may just make it through the rest of my pregnancy without going insane!
BUT with gestational diabetes, I now have something to complain about, so my posting is up. Maybe my mom was onto something.
Yesterday I went in for my diabetes education. I thought it was going to be a class with several people, so I was curious as to how they'd educate me about everything regarding my specific needs in a class setting. I was wrong, however. Everything was one-on-one. First I met with a woman who explained my new eating habits and schedule. She gave me a book that has information about all my meals and what foods I can eat and stuff. Fruit juice has been stricken off the list entirely for the rest of my pregnancy, which is ironic since I actually increased my fruit juice intake BECAUSE OF my pregnancy. Anyhoo. What I couldn't help but notice is that in the food index of my book (it's really more like a beefy pamphlet or a wimpy magazine), chocolate isn't even listed. Seriously?
Then I met with a woman who explained to me how I need to poke holes in my fingers six times a day to test my blood sugar. Are you kidding me? And I need to pee on a stick every morning. And record it all. And I need to eat all my meals and prick my fingers at set times.
So last night I entered in six alarms on my iPhone so that I can be reminded when to eat every day, since I tend to be a person who forgets to eat and gets around to it when it's convenient. The first one went off this morning at 8:30. So I immediately pricked my finger, measured my blood sugar, went downstairs, prepared a breakfast for me and Murray, and ate breakfast. And then I realized that I forgot to pee on the stick. After I'd already peed. So I mustered up enough pee to pee on the stick and then I had to compare the stick's color to the color scheme on the pee-stick packaging. Since Murray is the color expert, I called him over to ask his advice and tell me what color my pee stick was closest to. After determining the right color, Murray commented, "You know, all this is kindof fun when you think about it. You get to use a cool little blood machine every day, and then practice color theory with your urine!"
I still have a few questions about my menu, since I was educated so quickly! For example, here are my nutritional requirements for dinner every day. I was pretty stumped about what to do last night while I was looking at them:
3 carbohydrate group
- 1 starch
- 1 fruit
- 1 milk
- non-starchy vegetables
3 meat or meat substitutes (3 oz)
2 fats
So breaking this down for you, it goes something like this.
My one starch that I get to eat at dinner is equivalent to 1/3 cup of pasta or rice, or one slice of bread, or 1/2 cup of potatoes. And other things of the like. But you get that it's a really small portion.
My one fruit is pretty self-explanatory.
My one milk can be either milk or yogurt. I don't drink milk, and yogurt doesn't really seem to go with an evening meal.
I am allowed up to 1 1/2 cups of cooked non-starchy vegetables or up to 3 cups of raw.
My 3 meats means 3 ounces of meat or meat substitute like beans, cheese, eggs, etc. Have you ever seen a 3-oz steak?
My 2 fats means that I've got to add a bit of butter or oil or something to my meal.
So what would you make with these specifications? No, seriously. Please leave comments about what you would prepare given this breakdown. I will love you forever. After I cried a little bit (a lot) about how this was absolutely impossible and it seemed that I'd be doomed to eating mismatched meals for the rest of my pregnancy, I received inspiration. Here's our meal last night:
SALAD NICOISE with Cherry Smoothies for dessert
Salad for 2:
1 can of green beans, drained
1 bag of salad greens (I like the spring mix)
2 small tomatoes
(all totaled, equals less than 3 cups of veggies each)
1 cup of boiled small red potatoes with skins
(at 1/2 cup each, this equals one starch---oh, and I gave Murray more than 1/2 cup because I'm kind like that)
1 can tuna, drained
2 hard boiled eggs, cut up
(all totalled, 3 oz of meat each)
some green olives (for Murray's half, although if I liked green olives, this would have counted as a fat)
homemade dressing made with garlic-herbed olive oil, dijon mustard, and cider vinegar
(two fats!)
Smoothies for 2:
2 cups of light vanilla soy milk
24 frozen cherries
(There's my milk and my fruit!)
After the meal, we were both really surprised to find out that we were both really full. So, as long as I can keep coming up with inventive ways to put my ingredient list together, I may just make it through the rest of my pregnancy without going insane!
Weekend Update
We had a great weekend. I love General Conference weekend. Sometimes I wonder if I should just convert to a televangelist sort of church. I mean, what's better than attending church in your pajamas?
In addition to conference, we prepared the baby's room for.... Switchback! Just in time for her arrival, we got our crib set up (donated by Murray's aunt) and put all of the gender-neutral bedding on. The room is looking more and more like a baby's room every day. Switchback didn't sleep in the crib. She slept in the bed beside the crib. I guess she's all about the big-girl comforts.
Today I go in for my diabetes education. Yikes! After 3:00 today, my diet will have completely changed. So today, I celebrated my last day of ignorance by having a well rounded breakfast:
2 pieces of pumpkin bread, slathered with Nutella (to my credit, I used half whole wheat flour and replaced all the oil with apple sauce...)
1 hard boiled egg
1 glass orange juice
I have been trying my best this weekend to eat all of my Nutella, and I didn't even eat half. Dang. I have a feeling the rest of it is going to go to waste... or at least wait for me for the next three months.
The Monkey Paw
There's this ghost/horror story that I heard in my childhood that my mom called to remind me of this morning. It's about a monkey paw. Have you heard this one?
A man somehow acquires a monkey paw that you can wish upon. Whatever you wish on the monkey paw, it comes true. But everyone warns the man: Don't wish on the monkey paw. He doesn't heed their warning and wishes on the monkey paw anyway. Whatever he wishes, his wish is granted, but something goes wrong in order to grant that wish. Finally, he wishes for $500,000. As soon as he's finished wishing, the phone rings and he and his wife are informed that their son has died. But they are the beneficiaries of his life insurance policy and will be receiving $500,000. Obviously the man and wife are distraught. Later, while still mourning the death of their son, the wife finds the monkey paw and wishes to have her son back. The story ends as the son rises from the grave and comes after his parents zombie-style.
(I got the details a little wrong, but here's the actual story.)
So why did my mom call me to remind me about this story this morning? Well, yesterday I was officially diagnosed with gestational diabetes. And because my mom only bought a one-way ticket to come out for Christmas this year (the baby is due January 4th), she's been wishing and wishing that I won't go past my due date (she said she went 2 weeks over with all but one of us). And she just read on the internet that they don't allow women with gestational diabetes to go past their due date because there's a risk that the baby will grow too big.
I hope my mom doesn't wish for me to get lots of good rest, because for sure something else will go wrong and I'll end up on bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy!
Dr. Rice, you were my only hope.
So my no-longer hero, Dr. Rogers Rice, is no longer working on a cure for diabetes. Before, I looked up to her as a health pioneer, kindof like Marie Curie. Now I look down on her as a quitter, like Hillary Clinton or Britney Spears.
(AN ASIDE: Our Puerterican neighbor told Murray that someone in Cuba has developed a cure for AIDS and will sell enough vaccine for ONE PERSON to Americans for $50 billion. I think that the American taxpayers can spare another $50 billion to save one person from AIDS, don't you?)
Back to diabetes. It turns out I might have them--the gestational kind. At least Dr. Rogers's previous efforts at curing diabetes have taught me to refer to them as LIVAbetes. That gives me hope.
When my mom asked me today if I can name the people in my family who have diabetes, I immediately named my grandpa, whose diabetes have been the family joke for quite a while now. He was told by a doctor that he had a pre-diabetic condition, or something, and so he needed to change his eating habits. My grandpa likes a good meal, and likes a good dessert to follow the meal. After the diagnosis, he'd help himself to a quarter of a blueberry pie (instead of half a blueberry pie) and let everyone know that he was cutting back on sweets "on account of me diabetees." Of course, when he was in a senior's center for a while, he told them about his diabetes so that he could get special treatment. Unfortunately, that special treatment was them rationing his sweets in a proper manner, and suddenly Grandpa was miraculously cured of the diabetes! But when he stayed with my parents for a while, and was fixing himself a large breakfast on Fast Sunday, my mom asked him why he wasn't fasting and he said that he couldn't fast, "on account of me diabetees." My mom said that she thought he no longer had diabetes, and he told her that he never could be too careful; they might come back!
So this is a picture of me drinking my orange soda before the test. My mother-in-law was very interested to know what I thought of the drink, and she kindof made me think that I was to expect something awful and nasty. What I got was a fairly potent bottle of orange soda. Kindof like drinking carbonated melted orange popsicles, and since when was that a bad thing? I offered a small taste to Murray, but he declined, saying that he'd rather not drink a pregnant women's drink, for fear of spontaneously sprouting ovaries.
Notice the look of confidence in my eyes. My pregnancy has been a breeze so far. So I was expecting to pass this test as easily as I have passed all the others. Let's review my pregnancy, shall we?
Number of times I've thrown up: 1 (before the pregnancy test was even positive; this may not have been pregnancy related)
Number of pounds gained: 10ish. And I'm at month 6. I figure I'm doing pretty well.
Size of belly: Manageable. I can still fit into my normal jeans if I want to. I'm not that large, due mainly to my long torso with lots of room for baby and my soccer-ball-sized uterus.
Swelling of extremities: Manageable.
Hip and joint pain: Manageable. Sometimes uncomfortable, but nothing that slows me down too much.
See? It's been a good pregnancy so far. And I've felt pretty much not-that-pregnant for the whole thing. So now to find out that my pregnancy might not be perfect?? It's a little bit weird.
I get to go back tomorrow and do a longer version of the test, and drink a more potent orange soda elixer (yipee!!). So I'll know more about it then. And if it turns out I have gestational diabetes, I think it just basically means that I have excellent incentive to make very positive lifestyle changes.
What I know for sure is that I can't count on that quitter Dr. Rice to cure me diabetees.
Nacho Man
I believe I once mentioned in passing that one of the great things that I've gotten out of my friendship with Ambrosia is an appreciation of El Azteca nachos. The first time that we got them together, we'd each get our own. Back then, it rang up as $6 after tax. So that seemed like a pretty good deal for a meal.
But it didn't take us too long to figure out that neither of us could ever finish the nachos (I think that actually maybe she did once, which is incredible and means that she should enter herself into eating contests). So we started just sharing them. So suddenly, it was $3 for a meal. Even better.
Since marrying Murray, I've converted him, too. Today we met for a nacho lunch at El Azteca. Here's our meal. And no, between the two of us, we can't finish it.
(something funky happened with that picture...)
All I want for Christmas is to be a size 8 again.
But that's clearly not going to happen. Corporate America is keeping me down. Please look at all the pictures of the food that's around our office right now. (Please note: It's less than there was this morning... people [including me] have squirreled away MANY items to keep in their office or bring home and share with their families. The food's gotta go somewhere [my ass].)
Premarital Weightloss
So I am trying a new workout program, thanks to El Senor. I may have mentioned before that when I was growing up, El Senor would put Weight Watchers and Shape magazines on my bed and tell me to use them. (He hates it when I say that because then you all think that he's a jerk---he's not a jerk. He just used to be. And I used to be a jerk to him.)
But when I moved in with him last year, I was surprised to see that he had slipped into his old ways and subscribed to Fitness Magazine. I saw the magazine in the mail and brought it to him, asking why he had subscribed to a women's magazine. He claimed he hadn't. I pointed out to him the women's magazine that clearly had his name on it. And then he remembered that after a cycling event he'd attended that summer, for his participation, he was allowed to subscribe to a few magazines for free. So he chose Men's Health or something, and something else, and then saw the name "Fitness" and decided to subscribe to that magazine, too.
Of course, reality is that in the last 20 years, he's become a better liar. I know he subscribed to that magazine because he figured I needed to do something about it.
And it's only taken me a year to finally implement a regime from the book. My coworker and I are hitting the gym three times a week together to follow this kick-butt workout, and I really do hope that it kicks my butt. So far, my butt, thighs, abs, and back have been sore. I could probably pick up a higher weight to get my arms and shoulders.
And this is why I need to kick it into high gear:
But when I moved in with him last year, I was surprised to see that he had slipped into his old ways and subscribed to Fitness Magazine. I saw the magazine in the mail and brought it to him, asking why he had subscribed to a women's magazine. He claimed he hadn't. I pointed out to him the women's magazine that clearly had his name on it. And then he remembered that after a cycling event he'd attended that summer, for his participation, he was allowed to subscribe to a few magazines for free. So he chose Men's Health or something, and something else, and then saw the name "Fitness" and decided to subscribe to that magazine, too.
Of course, reality is that in the last 20 years, he's become a better liar. I know he subscribed to that magazine because he figured I needed to do something about it.
And it's only taken me a year to finally implement a regime from the book. My coworker and I are hitting the gym three times a week together to follow this kick-butt workout, and I really do hope that it kicks my butt. So far, my butt, thighs, abs, and back have been sore. I could probably pick up a higher weight to get my arms and shoulders.
And this is why I need to kick it into high gear:
You've Got to Be Kidding Me
Rachel and I decided to get together for a Thursday evening bike ride. Never mind the fact that there were tornado-like wind wind conditions. Never mind the fact that there were menacing rain/snow clouds. Never mind the fact that we were going to ride on the men-having-sex-with-men-in-the-bushes trail. We were going to go on a bike ride. We put on our matchy-matchy jeans-and-navy-hoodies outfits and set out on the trails.
We passed the llama/pig/emu/goat/peacock/chicken farm. We saw a muskrat (?) swimming in the water. We even saw a pied-billed grebe. We went on a golf course. We went under a scary overpass. We did everything with no flats. It was wonderful.
And when it was done and we were back at Rachel's house, we felt so good about our physical activity that we decided to go out and get a pizza and an order of Italian cheese bread from Little Caesar's. And then we watched The Office. And then I was ready for the ride home, before it got too dark.
But when I got to my bike, I found the back tire completely deflated. And then I felt my soul deflate, too. Upon inspection, I found about three thorns in the back tire. Did I mention we were on paved trails the whole time? The front tire was still inflated, but I found about six thorns sticking into it. You know what's going to happen when those come out.
Rachel checked out her bike to see if my curse was extended to her, but her bike looked fine. So I decided to inspect her bike. The back tire was fine, but the front tire was completely deflated with several thorns sticking into it.
I'm thinking that Guido and I are going to have a rough (and expensive) summer.
We passed the llama/pig/emu/goat/peacock/chicken farm. We saw a muskrat (?) swimming in the water. We even saw a pied-billed grebe. We went on a golf course. We went under a scary overpass. We did everything with no flats. It was wonderful.
And when it was done and we were back at Rachel's house, we felt so good about our physical activity that we decided to go out and get a pizza and an order of Italian cheese bread from Little Caesar's. And then we watched The Office. And then I was ready for the ride home, before it got too dark.
But when I got to my bike, I found the back tire completely deflated. And then I felt my soul deflate, too. Upon inspection, I found about three thorns in the back tire. Did I mention we were on paved trails the whole time? The front tire was still inflated, but I found about six thorns sticking into it. You know what's going to happen when those come out.
Rachel checked out her bike to see if my curse was extended to her, but her bike looked fine. So I decided to inspect her bike. The back tire was fine, but the front tire was completely deflated with several thorns sticking into it.
I'm thinking that Guido and I are going to have a rough (and expensive) summer.
I Lost Two Pounds on the Daltongirl Miracle Diet. Ask Me How.
By following these easy steps, you too can lose two pounds of pure body fat on the Daltongirl Miracle Diet.
DAY ONE
Go over to Daltongirl's house. Eat her food and touch her baby chickens.
DAY TWO
Fast for 24 hours. Or, you know, 20 if you're a wuss.
By midday you should receive an email from Daltongirl to ask if you're puking like she is. If you're not, that's okay. The diet is not working yet.
Break your fast by eating three large pieces of El Senor's cardamom bundt cake, made with sour cream that expired two months ago.
DAY THREE
Go about your daily routine. Notice the queasy feeling in your stomach. This is the diet starting to work.
Take the edge off the queasiness by eating a large, spicy salad. If that doesn't work, top it off with several cinnamon gummy bears.
Return home; you may even choose to leave work or your regular routine an hour early. Once home, if you choose a shot of Pepto Bismol instead of the last piece of El Senor's cardamom bundt cake, the diet is working.
Nap for three hours.
If you still don't want that piece of cardamom bundt cake, you're on the right track.
Watch an hour of television.
Go to the bathroom.
Vomit. Repeat three times.
DAY FOUR
Writhe and moan in your bed. Eat nothing.
DAY FIVE
Weigh yourself. You should have lost at least two pounds.
This diet is also doctor-certified. Or almost-doctor certified. Because it was certified by Rogers Rice, almost-PhD. Please review her findings in an exclusive google talk interview:
Dr. Rice: So tell me about this miracle diet.
Cicada: It's GREAT. I ate at my friend Daltongirl's house on Saturday. And then she called on Sunday to see if I was puking b/c she was puking all night. I wasn't. But I puked MONDAY night. So I think instead of food poisoning me, she just gave me some bug.
Dr. Rice: Awesome. Puking will help you melt off the pounds for sure.
Cicada: But hey---it got rid of those two pesky pounds I've really been wanting to get rid of.
Dr. Rice: Sadly, its just water weight.
Cicada: No. No it's not. It's fat. Pure fat. I'm sure of it.
Dr. Rice: I believe, Cicada.
Cicada: Don't burst my two-pound bubble, Dr. Rice.
Dr. Rice: You puked up your own fat.
Cicada: If throwing up weren't a key to weight loss, bulimics wouldn't have such success.
Dr. Rice: I can't argue with that logic Cicada.
Cicada: And YOU're the one who's getting a PhD. Ha. Just call me Dr. Cicada.
Dr. Rice: Done and done
DAY ONE
Go over to Daltongirl's house. Eat her food and touch her baby chickens.
DAY TWO
Fast for 24 hours. Or, you know, 20 if you're a wuss.
By midday you should receive an email from Daltongirl to ask if you're puking like she is. If you're not, that's okay. The diet is not working yet.
Break your fast by eating three large pieces of El Senor's cardamom bundt cake, made with sour cream that expired two months ago.
DAY THREE
Go about your daily routine. Notice the queasy feeling in your stomach. This is the diet starting to work.
Take the edge off the queasiness by eating a large, spicy salad. If that doesn't work, top it off with several cinnamon gummy bears.
Return home; you may even choose to leave work or your regular routine an hour early. Once home, if you choose a shot of Pepto Bismol instead of the last piece of El Senor's cardamom bundt cake, the diet is working.
Nap for three hours.
If you still don't want that piece of cardamom bundt cake, you're on the right track.
Watch an hour of television.
Go to the bathroom.
Vomit. Repeat three times.
DAY FOUR
Writhe and moan in your bed. Eat nothing.
DAY FIVE
Weigh yourself. You should have lost at least two pounds.
This diet is also doctor-certified. Or almost-doctor certified. Because it was certified by Rogers Rice, almost-PhD. Please review her findings in an exclusive google talk interview:
Dr. Rice: So tell me about this miracle diet.
Cicada: It's GREAT. I ate at my friend Daltongirl's house on Saturday. And then she called on Sunday to see if I was puking b/c she was puking all night. I wasn't. But I puked MONDAY night. So I think instead of food poisoning me, she just gave me some bug.
Dr. Rice: Awesome. Puking will help you melt off the pounds for sure.
Cicada: But hey---it got rid of those two pesky pounds I've really been wanting to get rid of.
Dr. Rice: Sadly, its just water weight.
Cicada: No. No it's not. It's fat. Pure fat. I'm sure of it.
Dr. Rice: I believe, Cicada.
Cicada: Don't burst my two-pound bubble, Dr. Rice.
Dr. Rice: You puked up your own fat.
Cicada: If throwing up weren't a key to weight loss, bulimics wouldn't have such success.
Dr. Rice: I can't argue with that logic Cicada.
Cicada: And YOU're the one who's getting a PhD. Ha. Just call me Dr. Cicada.
Dr. Rice: Done and done
I had a phlebotomy.
I donated blood today and I actually didn't do as well as I always do. That is to say, when I finished the donation, before I stood up, my head started swimming, and then my hearing went away and it sounded like I was under water, and then the girl had to ask me if I was okay, and I said no. And then she asked me to hold something, but I couldn't really hear her because of my hearing loss, but then I held it and she tipped my seat back and then she asked me to cough because coughing brings blood to the head (who knew?) but I felt really silly coughing. So I just laughed (hoping that laughter would bring blood to my head) and asked if I really had to keep coughing, and she kept saying, "Just one more, just one more." And she had to put cold compresses on and beneath my head. And I had to lie there for a good ten minutes.
Apparently I didn't enough fluids and/or food this morning. I thought that I was being good by drinking a breakfast shake, which is full of vitamins. I guess I was wrong. My last donation time was 6:15 (I beat all my coworkers---we're competitive like that). This donation time was about 8:00. Pathetic.
The whole experience, though, wasn't as bad (read: cool) as the experience I had my freshman year.
The good part about it is that now I have an excuse not to work out today (I've successfully found an excuse every day for the past two weeks) and to overeat. I mean, I really feel that my body needs a lot of calories today. Good thing I asked my mom to take me to Buca di Beppo's tonight for dinner. I'd better get dessert, too, just to be on the safe side.
Apparently I didn't enough fluids and/or food this morning. I thought that I was being good by drinking a breakfast shake, which is full of vitamins. I guess I was wrong. My last donation time was 6:15 (I beat all my coworkers---we're competitive like that). This donation time was about 8:00. Pathetic.
The whole experience, though, wasn't as bad (read: cool) as the experience I had my freshman year.
The good part about it is that now I have an excuse not to work out today (I've successfully found an excuse every day for the past two weeks) and to overeat. I mean, I really feel that my body needs a lot of calories today. Good thing I asked my mom to take me to Buca di Beppo's tonight for dinner. I'd better get dessert, too, just to be on the safe side.
The Skinny on Being Fat
That's the title of one of the articles that I have to write. Basically it's about women who are unhappy with their weight and yet refuse to do anything about it. Like me. I like chocolate so I eat chocolate. I sit at a desk all day long, and though I have a gym pass, I don't seem to use it. I find excuses---like the fact that the podiatrist told me not to exercise. Weak excuse, I know. The doctor tells you not to exercise? Well, the doctor also told me to take these pills twice a day until they were all gone, too, but I still have half the bottle left. Now I keep them on hand because they're great pain killers. But I really took the no exercise thing to heart.
I went shopping with Mishkin yesterday. I know he'll hate me to even mention it, but he's been working out and he's bulked up some this summer (I won't go into the details of his pecs or his biceps or anything like that...). So the shopping experience---which was supposed to be focused on him anyway---was definitely focused on him. I'm at my top weight ever. I don't fit into any of the clothes that I have and I certainly don't want to buy fatter clothes (I did... and then I outgrew them...) Mishkin on the other hand looked fantastic in everything I made him try on (well, almost everything... I maintain that no man looks good in a bikini, but it was still fun to see him wear one*).
So I need to start doing better about eating and exercising. And I need to write The Skinny on Being Fat because I think it'll be really funny. The thing is, I had no idea that school starts this next Monday. Don't get me wrong---I'm really excited, like I am any time I've taken a break from school. But now I'm wondering what happened to all the articles and the novel and the poetry I was supposed to write this summer. And what the heck happened to my waistline this summer? Okay. So the year in retrospecticus wasn't all that great for me, I suppose. I gained 25 pounds. I didn't put all the really great ideas I've had into writing. But I did win awards for two articles.
Hmm. Anyway. Goals for the year: Get thin. Write articles and win/earn money. Buy new clothes with the money.
*Mishkin never actually tried on a bikini and I never actually encouraged him to do so.
I went shopping with Mishkin yesterday. I know he'll hate me to even mention it, but he's been working out and he's bulked up some this summer (I won't go into the details of his pecs or his biceps or anything like that...). So the shopping experience---which was supposed to be focused on him anyway---was definitely focused on him. I'm at my top weight ever. I don't fit into any of the clothes that I have and I certainly don't want to buy fatter clothes (I did... and then I outgrew them...) Mishkin on the other hand looked fantastic in everything I made him try on (well, almost everything... I maintain that no man looks good in a bikini, but it was still fun to see him wear one*).
So I need to start doing better about eating and exercising. And I need to write The Skinny on Being Fat because I think it'll be really funny. The thing is, I had no idea that school starts this next Monday. Don't get me wrong---I'm really excited, like I am any time I've taken a break from school. But now I'm wondering what happened to all the articles and the novel and the poetry I was supposed to write this summer. And what the heck happened to my waistline this summer? Okay. So the year in retrospecticus wasn't all that great for me, I suppose. I gained 25 pounds. I didn't put all the really great ideas I've had into writing. But I did win awards for two articles.
Hmm. Anyway. Goals for the year: Get thin. Write articles and win/earn money. Buy new clothes with the money.
*Mishkin never actually tried on a bikini and I never actually encouraged him to do so.
As the Move Continues...
I'm still in the process of moving. It seems that something comes up every night that I want to work on the apartment (which is every night). We got the bulk of the work done on Tuesday, but there is still so much to do, and I find that I work circularly instead of linearly---I start doing one thing, I go into the next room to get scissors, I see something else that needs to be done, I start doing that thing, I go into another room to throw away garbage, I see something else that needs to be done, I start doing that thing...
Also, the absence of Internet, television, movies, and even books has effectively ensured that I can do nothing to relax after I'm too tired to work anymore. So I've just kept working since the only two other options have always been 1) go to bed, or 2) stare at the wall. Last night, I finally got some books into my apartment (Brother 2 moved into a new apartment unexpectedly yesterday, so I helped him to move and I grabbed a few of his books in the process). I was thrilled to stop working on my own apartment at 8:00 p.m. and actually sit down with a book. My entire body was buzzing. I was so exhausted. And then I realized that I had absolutely no food in the house.
Okay. So that's an exaggeration. I had one bottle of water, two cinamon rolls and a can of baked beans.
I had to go buy groceries. I realized that it would only get harder the longer I procrastinated, so finally I left at 9:00. I walked down to Allen's (people have warned me that it's ghetto, but I haven't even moved my bike to my new place yet, and it was the only place within reasonable walking distance). The problem was that I wasn't even hungry when I was at the grocery store, so nothing even appealed to me. I wandered the isles for a half an hour before I had any idea of what to buy.
I walked out of Allen's with a rather large back pack full of groceries. It was full to overflowing, even and I slung it on my back with difficulty. As I trudged home, I wondered what it would be like if I were that much heavier---if the load that I was carrying on my back were actually converted into fat under my skin that I had to lug around with me everywhere I go. I thought I must have had a hundred pounds of groceries on my back.
So I weighed in when I got home. With the back pack full of groceries, I weighed 210. Without the back pack and groceries, I weighed 175.
Huh. That's 35 pounds, which is exactly how much weight I want to lose. Now that I know how much that is, then I realize what a daunting task I have before me.
Didn't I say that I weighed 175 pounds and wanted to lose 35 pounds a month ago?
Also, the absence of Internet, television, movies, and even books has effectively ensured that I can do nothing to relax after I'm too tired to work anymore. So I've just kept working since the only two other options have always been 1) go to bed, or 2) stare at the wall. Last night, I finally got some books into my apartment (Brother 2 moved into a new apartment unexpectedly yesterday, so I helped him to move and I grabbed a few of his books in the process). I was thrilled to stop working on my own apartment at 8:00 p.m. and actually sit down with a book. My entire body was buzzing. I was so exhausted. And then I realized that I had absolutely no food in the house.
Okay. So that's an exaggeration. I had one bottle of water, two cinamon rolls and a can of baked beans.
I had to go buy groceries. I realized that it would only get harder the longer I procrastinated, so finally I left at 9:00. I walked down to Allen's (people have warned me that it's ghetto, but I haven't even moved my bike to my new place yet, and it was the only place within reasonable walking distance). The problem was that I wasn't even hungry when I was at the grocery store, so nothing even appealed to me. I wandered the isles for a half an hour before I had any idea of what to buy.
I walked out of Allen's with a rather large back pack full of groceries. It was full to overflowing, even and I slung it on my back with difficulty. As I trudged home, I wondered what it would be like if I were that much heavier---if the load that I was carrying on my back were actually converted into fat under my skin that I had to lug around with me everywhere I go. I thought I must have had a hundred pounds of groceries on my back.
So I weighed in when I got home. With the back pack full of groceries, I weighed 210. Without the back pack and groceries, I weighed 175.
Huh. That's 35 pounds, which is exactly how much weight I want to lose. Now that I know how much that is, then I realize what a daunting task I have before me.
Didn't I say that I weighed 175 pounds and wanted to lose 35 pounds a month ago?
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