So it has almost been a month...well 25 days to be exact. 17 pounds have gone, three more this week. But I must confess...last Friday I "cheated" a little bit. By cheating I will say that I still ate healthy, fresh, home made food. But I had some simple carbs. I didn't go overboard but I did have a potato and some tortillas and believe me I paid for it the next day. I never realized how eating like that made me so sick. Gassy, bloated, just painful. So I was right back to what I know is true for my body. Lots of veggies and lean protein.
The one area where I am focusing on right now is eating until I am satisfied...not stuffed to the gills, ready to explode, FULL!!! So I am stopping when I sense that and encouraging my little girl to do the same. It is working for both of us! She is starting to say "I think I am done" and she is not asking for extras after we are done with dinner. You see I have had this mindset ingrained in me since I was a little girl spending most of my meals with my depression-era grandparents. Waste not-want not. My little grandma would spend her day cleaning, cooking and watching soaps and when it came time to eat the dinner she just spent 2 hours making, she would serve us and then go outside and take some time for herself.
I was a normal 5 year old that didn't really like stewed tomatoes or onions or....the list could go on and on. Sitting with my Grandfather eating "supper" was like torture to me. He wouldn't let me get up until I cleaned my plate. Sometimes he would get down right offended that I wouldn't eat that stewed tomato. But I learned quickly to eat quietly and quickly and if there was something to awful to bear, my sweet Grandma would swoop in after Grandpa settled into his chair for the evening and she would feed my scraps to the dog, all the while telling me not to say anything to him. I would skip in to Grandpa's living room and when he would ask if I finished all my food, I would keep my promise to Grandma and tell him "Yes", where he would then nod his head approvingly.
Normally I didn't have a problem clearing my plate. My mom (and grandma) are fantastic cooks. Enchiladas, tacos, macaroni casserole are my favorites...to name just a few. I have had an affinity for Mexican food since I was born. But I never learned when or even how to stop. I would just eat until I was stuffed. We didn't want to waste it. ;)
But looking deeper into the meaning that food has held for me all of my life, I see that it was time that I got to spend with my mom and my grandma cooking. I always was my mom's little prep cook, frying tortillas, grating cheese, setting the table, making the Kool-aid, helping clean up after dinner. We celebrated with food and the process in making it. It was time for us to just hang out after a long day at school and all of the long hours she worked in order to provide for us. Cooking became a ritual of spending time with each other, a necessity that became much more in the process to me. I still love cooking with my mom on the holidays and random dinners that I invite myself to. It is still a source of comfort to me just to have her with me. Its not about the food....just the company.
So that has been my focus this week. I make smaller portions, serve myself smaller portions, eat slower, wait for longer periods in between serving myself more food and I always find that I don't want more. We play outside before dinner while the veggies are steaming and have a dance party after dinner instead of eating ice cream. What my little girl was craving clearly was more time with me. It is clear that she was doing what she saw...recommending food establishments because I was always eating out...but now is asking for dance parties and books before bed instead of food and TV. This shift is just what we have been looking for.
<3, J
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