Whole 30--the Whole Scoop

In case you've missed it, the last month of my life centered around completing the Whole 30 way of eating. You can read about my journey: Day 1 and Day 10 and Day 20.

As I reread those posts, I remembered where I had been just a month ago. I remember how lost and out of control I felt. I remember how impossible 30 days looked from day 1--how I mourned the loss of diet Pepsi and simple carbs and sugar. That monkey had such a hold on me, and I knew that something needed to change in my life.

Those first ten days were so hard. "Fake soda"--a splash of fruit juice in Pellegrino. The hours in the kitchen and grocery store. The withdrawal side effects--headaches, sleepiness, grumpiness.

The next ten days had their own type of hard, but I began to see some of the positives--finally. I could see the beauty of a well plated dish--the interaction of the colors and flavors. I found a tiny bit of satisfaction while cooking. The recipes became familiar and the shopping less dreaded. Soda didn't beg me and carbs didn't call me. My strange eating rules were becoming habits. I have to cop to one unconscious slip: I ate something off plan while we were helping for our stake's Pioneer Trek, and after I finished eating a piece of corn bread (yeah--not even anything awesome or worth cheating for), I was devastated. How could I do that? I beat myself up pretty bad about it. Then I moved on. This extreme side of Whole 30 is one thing I really don't like. Guilt from corn bread? Seriously?

So, how did the last ten days go?

One of the weirdest and hardest parts of Whole 30 for me was my complete lack of interest in exercise of any kind. I've always loved exercise, and yoga has been an integral part of my life for the last few years, but I couldn't muster the energy to bike or get on the mat for the first three weeks. By Day 22 or so, I was finally feeling like I had enough energy to exercise and recover from it. Some days I still don't think I have enough energy to exercise, and I need to find a way to compensate for this, because I've missed exercise.

I maneuvered two family reunions and two trips out of town by taking coolers of food with me. I hated that. This is another aspect of Whole 30 that I really hate--just living and eating and interacting normally during meals or social activities.

My last formal day of Whole 30 was June 10th, and as the end of the experiment approached, I began to panic. What would I do when I no longer had to follow all of the rules? Through the entire process, I told myself that there was NO WAY this would be permanent in my life. After 29 days, I was beginning to rethink my resolution.

Day 30 came and went with little fanfare. I evaluated how I felt. The cravings had all disappeared. My clothes fit better, and so did my skin. I felt stronger and leaner. Brad commented often how different my hair looks and how clear my skin is. I had learned how to cook a little bit--and by the end of a month of it, I didn't hate it so much. I don't think I'll ever end up on Iron Chef, but I'm not an embarrassment with a garlic press any more.

Before Whole 30, I didn't take time to understand how my body responded to hunger, but that changed. Before, I didn't think my body cared when or what I ate. After 30 days, I learned that my cravings spike when I don't eat regular meals that are balanced and filling. If I missed a real lunch, then I was a mess by 3 pm. If I ate a good dinner, I didn't need "just a little something" sweet before bed. If I ate a real breakfast, I was good until lunch. I don't think I'd ever consistently eaten "three square meals a day" (and only three meals a day) in my entire adult life. This alone shifted my eating paradigm completely.

On Day 31, I woke up and stared at the ceiling for fifteen minutes. It was judgment day. I felt great, but what would the number on the scale say? Did it matter? Would a negligible change reflect that I had failed? I had to steel myself--like I used to when I was pregnant and I knew I had to face the scale at the doctor's office every month. I got on the scale for the first time in a month, and it said I had lost some weight. Funny thing is, that number didn't matter as much to me as I thought it would. That is progress.

I like cooking. A little tiny bit. I like good food. More than I thought. My family likes it, too.

Today is June 17th. What has a week off Whole 30 been like?

In all honesty, I haven't gone off the plan.

I know. I was shocked, too.

I'm a little afraid of how my body will react, truthfully. I don't like that feeling, either.

I had real ketchup one night, and I had a juice popsicle (with sugar in it) one 113-degree day. Those choices made me think, and I had to determine if the choice was worth it. More mindful, baby steps, which is good. Then, I had cheese and tortilla chips on Saturday (way more than I should have), and within an hour, I was feeling bloated and crappy. Will this be the rest of my life? Will I be unable to eat food like normal people? That was not the goal going into this whole thing. I don't want to be a prisoner of rules and strict control and panic over possibly hidden sugar grams or white flour. I don't want to never eat a chocolate chip cookie or pasta or a grilled cheese sandwich. I don't want to eliminate popcorn and soda when I go to the movie. I like that, and food is supposed to bring us occasional joy, along with fueling our bodies.

My long-range goal is this: I've always wanted to be a person who can eat one or two cookies, and then STOP. Eat a normal plateful of food, and then STOP. Drink a soda every once in a while, and then STOP. I hope that's possible. I think that Whole 30 has taught me skills and cues that will help me achieve this more mindful way of eating. From here, I realize I still have a long way to go to reach that goal, but with baby steps away from the strict plan and mindfully addressing how I feel after eating, I think this is the beginning of a permanent change.

Whole 30 Day 20

These last ten days were extremely difficult with the whole Whole 30 thing. Not gonna lie. This is not for the faint of heart. Or for those who despise cooking. Or for those who hate reading labels.

Lucky for me, I only lack two of the three.

If I weren't a determined gal, I would have given up on this whole program on day 13. Also, if I hadn't posted this on my blog for the world to see, I would have given up on this whole program on day 13.

Lucky for me, I have this blog.

Where to begin? How about the negatives?

1. I hate dirtying every dish in my house to make meals with which I am unfamiliar. My loathing for cooking may have something to do with this.
2. I hate all of the thinking required when before, eating was thoughtless.
3. I hate it when everyone else around me is eating something I can't. It's not that I really want what they're having, just that I wish I didn't have to think so much about my own food.
4. I hate reading labels and how much time grocery shopping takes.
5. I hate not being able to order anything in a restaurant but grilled chicken and plain salad.

Those hates aside, there have been a few positives, I must begrudgingly admit.

1. Every recipe I've tried has taught me good stuff, primarily this: I thought my family just didn't care about food because they never said anything at dinner time. I'm finding that they look forward to dinner a little each day, and all of the kids have been willing to try everything I've made--and liked it. A lot. This is probably the best part of Whole 30 for me, and these recipes will become part of our regular rotations for sure.
2. I'm not craving anything, really. I mean, I did want a Belgian waffle smothered in buttermilk syrup last night, but my body isn't demanding the sugar fix any more. Same with all simple carbs and treats. I've probably eaten more fruit than most Whole 30 participants, but that's fine with me.
3. I've discovered that my body does need complex carbohydrates to function. I wasn't eating even the recommended carbs (sweet and regular potatoes) for a few days, and I crashed. Once I got some baby red potatoes in me, I felt much better, and I've been on top of that ever since.
4. I don't miss soda. There. I said it. Does it make you all feel good? I've stopped flavoring San Pellegrino with a splash of juice and mostly stopped drinking it at all. Whether this will be permanently when I finish the 30 days, I don't know yet.
5. Honestly, I don't genuinely miss anything. I miss the freedom of being able to eat what I want, but bread and cheese and chocolate and treats don't haunt me.
6. Most shocking of all, I've found that I actually like food. I used to say that I don't really like food or care about it, but that's not true. I like making something delicious and having my family appreciate it. I like how things taste and how textures feel and how flavors blend together when done right.

The primary lesson I've learned so far from Whole 30 is that I can do anything for a short period of time. I don't give up, so that's not the problem. Control is my game plan. I've always been able to exert control for short periods of time--complete control of everything--then when that phase is over, I slowly resort back to my old habits. I don't want to do that this time. The problems will come back when I'm let loose on food again, I'm pretty sure of that. Carbs will start calling my name. Goldfish will frequent my dreams. Chocolate chip cookies will fill my oven and my tummy.

I only have ten days left, and I know how I'm going to spend them. These last few days are a gift to me. My cravings are under control and I still haven't received the green light to let loose, so I'm going to use these ten days to do something I had never done before Whole 30. I'm going to train myself to enjoy food. Enjoy the taste and smell and texture and blend and the whole experience. I'm going to eat meals and limit distractions while I eat. I'm going to taste every bite and teach myself to stop when I'm done enjoying the taste. I don't think I'll completely learn how to do this in ten days, but hopefully I'll have a little experience with it before the world of food is once again my oyster.

Hopefully, at the end of this Whole 30 experience, I'll have learned a lot about me and how to be moderate in my eating--eating the things I've always loved, mixed with new favorites, in a way that satisfies my appetite but keeps me happy with my choices.

One thing I do know--this Whole 30 thing will NOT be a permanent part of my life.

Whole 30 Day 10

Thought I'd update you on how things are going, Whole 30-wise.

The first few days were really rough.

"Really rough" doesn't begin to define how I felt those first days. I couldn't get enough sleep--nine hours at night and a nap during the day, and by 8 pm, I was ready for bed. I'm naturally a sleep-loving gal, but this lid-drooping, full-body malaise surprised me. I couldn't think at all--I kept telling myself that it was good I hadn't gotten this wild hair while I was still in school, or I wouldn't have been able to finish my final paper. It was that bad. I was short and impatient with my family--little things that I normally wouldn't notice sent me over the edge of insanity. I remember one dinner sitting at the table and holding my head in my hands, convincing myself that they were acting normally and I was the one out of sorts. And the headaches--withdrawal headaches from caffeine, withdrawal headaches from too much processed food, plus the detox of no simple carbs. I found my body begging for a soda or sugar or carbs.

With a game plan and a few friends' support (thanks, Janette and Carson--you talked me off the ledge more than once!), I fought on. It took about four days, and one morning I woke up to a golden morning with a changed attitude and a happier body.

By far, the hardest part of this experiment is the time it takes to eat--the planning, the shopping, the label reading . . .  and the COOKING! It's such a time sucker. For a few years, I've kind of wanted to learn how to cook well, and I invested in good knives and pots and pans this past year (and took my old ones up to the cabin--it was a handy excuse), so I had the tools I needed but never took the plunge.

I have a confession. I hate cooking. I hate it. Here's an excerpt from a text conversation I had this week:
"I've never been a foodie and I don't care about how food tastes or presents or any of that stuff. I eat fast and move on to the next thing. It's a total mindset change and the prospect of [being] in my prison/kitchen is most unappealing. I can't be nice when I'm in there. It's going to take a while before I think it's "fun," if ever. There are so many more interesting things to do and think about and fill my time with that have nothing to do with food. How's that for a crappy attitude?"

Although my attitude toward cooking hasn't changed much these past 10 days, I can see one of my excuses for not cooking disappearing. I used to say that my family doesn't really care what I cook and doesn't even notice. The last few meals, however, the kids have taken an interest in what is being prepared. They ask what I'm making, and every meal has been met with positive reactions, especially from Brad and Micah. So they do care, and if they care, I need to care a little bit more.

Another positive in the kitchen is that I've learned a few good techniques. Honestly, I never really knew the best way to cook a pork chop or sear a roast. I had only minced garlic once or twice in my life (I grew up using powdered garlic), but I've burned through two bulbs already. For the first time, I used (and broke) the food processor attachment for my blender (suggestions for a good food processor would be greatly appreciated). I made my own mayo (twice), ketchup, pesto, Thai, and chimichurri sauces. I made a roasted red pepper dip, and even made my own applesauce.

While I haven't used most of them yet, I hope combining tasty sauces with more meal planning will make these next 20 days a little better. I've gotten really bored of the bland food I've consumed when I haven't planned ahead better.

Soda has been and still is a challenge, but I've found that a splash of 100% grape juice in a high ball glass filled with ice and San Pellegrino takes the edge off. In ten days, I still haven't used the entire six pack. That's a small victory right there.

From where I am now, I can't imagine that I will make Whole 30 a permanent lifestyle change. What I do see Whole 30 doing for me is teaching me some much-needed kitchen skills and giving me a few good, easy, family-friendly recipes that I can make well. I have also become aware of a few bad eating habits. When I started the program, I never tasted what I was eating. I ate fast and didn't taste. I'm trying to slow down and eat meals, properly plated and sitting at the table so my body realizes it's mealtime, not just grabbing something quick on my way to something else. This was my breakfast this morning. First attempt at poached eggs didn't go well (there were two when I started), but I'll keep trying.

Ten days into the Whole 30 program, and the guide says that days 10 and 11 are the most common quitting days.

I'm not quitting today, thankyouverymuch. 

Last One . . . For a Whole 30 Days

There's a whole ritual to it.

Find the right glass.

Fill with 7 ice cubes.

Pop the top of the silver can and pour until the foam hits the rim.

Wait. The foam will recede.

Pour the rest of the can, because you know it all fits just right without spilling a drop.

Even as I write it, I can taste it. And I can't have it.

I am lost inside my life right now. Can't find where I fit. Can't find what to do. Can't find who I am any more.

It's weird and disconcerting and drives me to food all the time. Constantly. Many times a day. When I can't figure out what I need or what to do with my time, I'm sure the answer is a Twix. Or chocolate chip cookies. Or Reese's. Or brownies. Or a whole bag of Goldfish. Or . . .

Remember when I posted this letter?

I don't recognize that person any more.

I was getting ready for yoga this morning, and I didn't even know where my mat was. Took me five minutes to find it. Who am I?

A little friend of mine (one whose appearance I always dread) had returned, and after a few weeks of self-pity, self-medicating with all the tasty/bad things, and no exercise, I knew it was time to shake him off my back once again.

Stupid sugar monkey.


After talking with a friend of mine who had just finished the play, I researched it and decided to buy this:

I read the book, and Whole30's tough love and no-nonsense approach to beating food addictions appealed to my tough love/no-nonsense personality. I spent hours planning meals and grocery shopping--two things I detest--and yesterday was my first day on the plan.

I hope that Whole30 will teach me how to like cooking. I also hope that in a week, I'll be full of energy, back in control of my eating patterns, and satisfied with how I feel in my skin.

One day down, and I feel like I've been hit by a truck. So tired that I can barely keep my eyes open. Fully stocked fridge, but no energy or desire to make anything--that's problematic, since Whole30 has extremely strict dietary guidelines and there is no "safe" instantly available alternative to their meals. And no diet Pepsi. Not even a taste.

Sigh.

It's going to be a long 29 days. At least one's done, right?

Anyone out there with Whole30 experience who'd like to share?

Dear Self,

This photo has nothing to do with my post. I just liked it. And it's my blog.

It's been quite some time since the sugar monkey has reared his fuzzy little head around here. Brad was commenting at dinner the other night that I need to bring him back for a visit.

Have you missed him?

I haven't. Not that he hasn't been hopping up on my back still. I just haven't written about it.**

I've been participating in a healthy lifestyle challenge since November, and I have to say that I am finally learning what my body needs and what my body only thinks it needs (and later, I hate myself for my bad choices).

A few weeks ago, I wrote myself a sort of health manifest--a concrete list of NOs and YESs to remind myself what I really want for myself. I was going to keep it private, but Brad saw it on the counter in the bathroom, and he thought I should publish it here. I thought about it, and publishing it has two positive side effects: 1) It keeps me even more honest with myself, and 2) It could possibly lead someone else to make a similar list for themselves.

So, I'm posting my list today, with a giant disclaimer and no small amount of hesitation.

This list is mine, and mine alone. I took a lot of time thinking about my own personal eating issues, my own personal exercise routine, and my own personal needs before making this list. It was enlightening and helpful for me to be this honest with myself. This list is not intended to be universal or to fit anyone else. I invite you to make one of your own. It's empowering to articulate your weaknesses and your strengths. Just having it all written out and not floating around in my head has made this list meaningful to me.

To be honest, I haven't done every one of these things every day. I have been making mistakes, but the last point on the NO list and the last two points on the YES list have come in handy more than I thought they would. I'm learning that forgiving myself is one of the toughest challenges I face daily, and I'm learning how to do it.

That in itself is a huge step in the right direction.

So, before I chicken out, here's my letter to myself. I hope it leads you to a place where you can better understand yourself, too.

**If you would like to read more posts about my sugar monkey, type sugar monkey in the search window in the side bar. There are plenty of posts there.

My Phone and One More Small Issue

My phone is broken.  It stopped receiving or sending texts or email yesterday afternoon.  

I have to wait until Thursday for a replacement.

Don't text me between now and then, k?

This post isn't really about the demise of my phone. Today is a reality check day.

I had been hoping to post this victorious diatribe about how I had finally conquered my sugar addiction--the wonderful plan that had helped me lose my final nine pounds--and keep them off--all through the holidays. That was mastery, folks!

This post will not be about that triumph of willpower.

Instead, January was a battleground month, one where I fought myself every day and my willpower dissolved into sugary slurpee remains.  How could I resist all the temptation during the nine hardest weeks of the year, and now it has all disappeared? And now those nine pounds are back with a vengeance, holding on with every ounce of strength their celluloid walls can muster.

It's so unnerving how self-esteem can hinge around what entered your mouth or three little numbers and their placement on the bathroom scale.  I've been avoiding posting about it, hoping that I could rekindle that determination and dedication, but I have yet to find the motivating factor.

Let me clarify: On no planet (except maybe a planet populated by nutrition-deprived swimsuit models--have you seen the new catalog from DownEast Basics?) would I be considered fat.  We each have that place where we feel we should be--where we feel our best. I bet even Jillian Michaels can chart her BMI to a hundredth of a percent.

What this garble is trying to address is this:  Why do we judge ourselves by what size pants we're wearing or what we ate (or didn't eat) during the day? Why is self-worth counted out in calories and fat grams?  Why is our society so obsessed with looking perfect but eating garbage? Doesn't society know that's impossible?

I hate how much mental energy this expends daily.  I hate how it makes me happy or grouchy.

I'm not posting this to dredge up obligatory compliments--on the contrary.  What I am looking for is empathy--do you ever feel like this?  Or do you have a solution on how to keep self-esteem constant?  Or do you have a great way of battling the urge to indulge in all the crappy food available everywhere?

Thanks for listening. 

Back to your regularly scheduled, rose-colored blogging tomorrow . . .

The Post I've Been Avoiding for Weeks Now . . .

This little guy and I have been back and forth, fighting each other for years.  I've posted about Sugar Monkey's exploits in my life many times--these are a few favorites: The Grand Experiment, Bye-Bye Monkey,  and The Monkey Is Off My Back.  And many more, trust me.

I had to declare him victor for the month of October.  And when I say "victor,"  I actually mean that he kicked my trash so hard that my body no longer recognized the difference between beta carotene and red dye #40.  Bags of Halloween treats. Milkshakes and desserts. Cookie after cookie after cookie after cookie . . .

I had the best intentions at the beginning of the month, swearing an oath with my sister that I'd abstain for the month. That oath admittedly lasted maybe two days.

I know many people who struggle with their weight, some fight just a few pounds, while others combat the title obese. My struggle isn't so much with weight (even though it is in my mind often) as it is with a different word.  A negative word.  A word that conjures visions of hopelessness and sadness and an endless spiral downward.

Addiction.

I'm not trying to equate my fight with sugar to battles with cocaine or alcohol or pornography or anything else equally heinous.  What I am trying to express is how addiction--any addiction--makes you feel about yourself.

Worthless.  Angry.  Powerless.  Sad.  And the words of self-abuse that bounce in your brain are more destructive than any substance you let in--"How can I be so weak, so stupid, so short-sighted, so worthless?"  And then, of course the way to feel better is to indulge yet again.

I know the effect sugar has on me--how it spikes my moods and creates a person that is even more impatient, more intolerant, more exhausted, more prone to temper.  For some inexplicable reason,  recently I haven't been able to care.

This last week has been almost a caricature--unnatural, copious amounts of candy and treats, to the point where I wasn't eating anything of substance over most of the day.

Then I had an image come to my mind of my body actually trying to make sense of all the garbage I was throwing into it, wondering where to dispose of all the excess fat and how to process all the glucose and how to keep my body functioning with few necessary nutrients.  That's when it hit me.  This body of mine is strong.  It always keeps me functioning.  And one day, it will just give up, unable to continue with the crazy diet I give it.  What am I going to do about it?

I've given myself ultimatums and goals--once even going over 50 days without sugar, only to gradually slip down the slope into a lake of Snickers bars and self-loathing.  I have yet to find the answer.

What I do know is that I'm thankful my battle is with sugar--not with some mind-altering substance that would render me helpless.

And I won't give up.

Enough of this. 

Learning to Balance

Just got the latest letter from Tucker today. You can read it on his mission blog, here.

On our list to do this summer?  Camping.  I grew up camping. And I really like to camp, but it's something that has repeatedly slipped through the cracks for our family every summer.  I wasn't going to let that happen this year.

I accidentally overslept on Friday, and that put us all behind.  I knew that my attitude would dictate how the preparations went, so I tried to be patient and less stressed.  It didn't work.  By the time we were in the car and ready to leave, we were an hour behind schedule and I was grumpy.  Maybe someday I'll learn that.  I refuse to surrender to my personality flaws.  One day I will pack for a trip without the stress and grumpy, just not this time, unfortunately.

When we got to Christopher Creek, it was a gorgeous 76 degrees and the mountains were spectacular, as always. (I can't get this collage to cooperate, so click on it to see all the images.)

Micah fell in the creek with his only pair of shoes on (and his only pair of long pants).  Evie was a little intimidated by the long grass.  We all cooked hot dogs on the grill (fire restrictions in AZ prohibit fires or charcoal).  And we had a great time.

I found this ball toss game that glowed in the dark, and all of us had a turn making crazy faces with them.  I was deemed the creepiest, and not in a good way, I'm afraid.  Evie was fascinated with them.
 

Even though we couldn't bring Dad's "King mattress," we still slept reasonably comfortably, all seven of us.
It was worth every second, all the preparation, all the laundry and the mess.  We would have stayed a little longer on Saturday, but Evie blazed through my entire stash of diapers and we had to return to civilization to doctor her raw bum with medicine and clean pants.


And as far as my fight with my funk and weight?
While in the mountains, I succumbed to first one S'more (as Hyrum calls them--"Snore"), then another, then a little chocolate, then a little more. And that released the control beast for the rest of the weekend.  I was beating myself up pretty bad about it yesterday, but today is a new day, and new dawn, and I'm back on the wagon.  I've lost 1.5 pounds, avoided sugar all but four days, avoided fast food mostly, and exercised five of the six days last week.  That doesn't sound like losing the war, right?  I may have lost a few battles, but I'm gonna win this war!

For the Record

Keeping myself honest on this health challenge:

I haven't lost a single pound.

I haven't had sugar (except for a little sprinkled on the strawberries and bananas for dessert last night).

I took my kids to McDonald's for lunch after the library on Thursday. I may have had a few french fries (by a few I mean 10).

I exercised every day Thursday-Saturday.

I wouldn't consider myself a more purposeful eater yet. I'm trying.

I have planned menus and tried more adventurous cooking. Here are two I tried this weekend.

Zucchini/Mint Salad

3 1/2 oz. green beans, cut into thirds

2 small zucchini, cut into sticks

1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut into strips

2 celery stalks, sliced

1 bunch of watercress

Dressing:

1 c of Oikos plain Greek yogurt

2 T. chopped fresh mint

1 garlic clove, salt and crushed pepper

Cook the green beans and zucchini in a pan with lightly salted water 7-8 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water, and drain again. Let cool.

Mix the bell pepper strips, celery and watercress with the zucchini and green beans in a large bowl.

To make dressing, combine the yogurt, mint and garlic in a small bowl, season with salt and pepper. Mix with salad and serve immediately.

I made this salad because we had fresh zucchini and beans in our garden (yes, that picture above is from our garden.  One of the many reasons I love my husband!). My twists: My family didn't like the "spicy" watercress, so next time I'll use spinach and romaine. I accidentally bought blueberry/honey yogurt instead of plain, so I left out the garlic and mint. If I'd had any, I would have added a few blueberries. That yogurt was good on it.

This next recipe I got from Real Simple this month. Normally I think their recipes aren't simple or for real people, but this one I thought I could do:

Basil Spaghetti With Cheesy Broiled Tomatoes

12 ounces spaghetti

3 large beefsteak tomatoes (about 1 1/2 pounds), each cut into 4 thick slices

3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for the baking sheet

kosher salt and black pepper

8 ounces fresh mozzarella, grated

1/4 cup grated Parmesan (1 ounce), plus more, shaved, for serving

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper

3/4 cup torn fresh basil leaves, plus more for serving

Heat broiler. Cook the pasta according to the package directions; drain and return it to the pot.

Meanwhile, arrange the tomato slices in a single layer on a lightly oiled rimmed baking sheet. Season with ¼ teaspoon each salt and black pepper. Dividing evenly, sprinkle the slices with the mozzarella and Parmesan. Broil until the cheese is bubbly and golden, 3 to 5 minutes.

In a small saucepan, warm the oil with the garlic and red pepper over medium heat until fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes.

Add the garlic oil, basil, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon black pepper to the pasta and toss to combine. Serve topped with the tomatoes,* additional basil, and shaved Parmesan.

Our twist:
I chose this because we have ripe tomatoes and basil in the garden, and Brad's favorite is fresh mozz with tomatoes and basil. Next time, I would try a different pasta--the spaghetti was . . . eh. I also added fresh quartered cherry tomatoes from the garden here* and I would add even more next time.

My family's only complaint: Served with brussels sprouts. Not anyone's favorite. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

Leave a comment if you've hopped on this bandwagon.  Let us know how you're doing!

And if you live near me, I'm starting to teach water aerobics again.  It's been a few years, but I can't wait!  Tuesday and Thursday mornings, 6:30 am, in my pool.  Just come on in through the gate.  Bring a noodle and a towel and be prepared to work!  It's harder than it looks.

Out of the Funk, Part 2, or How Did This Happen?

I’ve been in a funk, as you are aware. And I’m desperately pulling my way out of the bog. But I have to admit that it’s been difficult to get there.

Since arriving in this funk, I have completely abandoned any semblance of exercise or nutrition. I countered that I was too busy to exercise and I needed the sugar and fat and junk to assuage my fragile mental state. Right?

I was wrong. Somehow, this funk has brought with it fifteen extra pounds. And nothing is more debilitating than lugging around extra weight. Some of you may think, “Stop complaining. I’ll show you FAT.” Fat is relative, isn’t it? Even big people have a skinny weight and a “I hate myself” weight. We all have skinny pants and a skirt we hold onto in the hopes that we’ll get down there once again.

I have recently caught myself looking in the mirror and loathing what I see, but I lack the self-control to change it. The odd thing about it is that I still think of myself as a skinny person, a person that can wear whatever and not think about it. I go to my closet and pull out a pair of pants I wore last summer, attempt to put them on before I realize that my derriere is way too expansive to test the strength of their seams. I keep telling myself: “After Heidi’s baby comes, I’ll face this.” Or “After Tucker leaves” or “After school gets out.” All of these events have come and gone, and I have yet to exercise the self-discipline necessary to change.

I no longer have any excuse. I am home with nothing standing in my way. I’ve complained and cried to Brad about it, and he told me to take it to my great confessor—the blogging world. There, I’ve confessed. And I’m ready to pay the piper.

Heidi and Sam are blessing Miss Ellie Rose on July 3, so here are my goals for the next month:

1. NO fast food.
2. NO sugar
3. Menu planning, focusing on vegies and fruit, limiting but not eliminating carbs.
4. Purposeful, thoughtful eating. No “Just fill me up and make me feel better.”
5. Exercise six days a week. No matter what.

How did this happen? I let it happen. I let my guard down, stopped caring about myself and how what I eat makes me feel later. And I’m fighting. With both fists, and an occasional kick, if necessary.

I’ll keep you posted. You know I will! Wanna join me?

Linking up to Jenny Matlock's H on Alphabe-Thursday.

Do you ever feel like this:

. . . no matter how early you get up or how late you stay awake, there is NO WAY you'll get everything done that has to be done in a day?

. . . there is not enough chocolate in the world to get you through your to-do list?

. . . you want to crawl into a corner and cry about how overwhelming your life is right now, but you just don't have the time to afford that luxury?

I'm having one of those weeks.

I'm hoping I can cry it out--on Friday there might be a few spare minutes.

Until then, I'm up before dawn (which, incidentally, in our no-daylight-savings-time state is before FIVE), down after eleven, and my chocolate supply is running low.

And I bid a fond, heartfelt farewell to my friends, Jet and Cord.

I'm so sorry you didn't win the Amazing Race. You were examples of dedication and kindness and grace throughout two full races. I admire you, and if I had $1,000,000 to award, I would award it to you. Adios, Cowboys. We'll miss you.

Whyy Didn't Someone Tell Me?

For those of you who frequent the Sanatorium, you're aware of my cooking aversion. It takes too much time for too little reward.
I signed up to bring a cake to the Relief Society Birthday party tonight. Why? Because it was a contest, and one thing I can knock out of the park is frosting. I had this one in the bag. See?

I started at 5:30 this morning--triple-layer yellow cake from scratch.

Semi-sweet ganache filling with shaved chocolate atop my signature butter cream frosting. WITH a crumb coat, mind you.

I entered triumphant.
The contest had been cancelled.  I didn't even put this much work into Hyrum's birthday cake.  Wish I'd known--Duncan Hines would have been just fine.

It was good.  But it wasn't worth it. Sigh.
And that right there is why, although I often wish I was a foodie and a chef, it just doesn't seem to be worth the time.

Lent . . .

I have a confession to make.

I set a "no sugar" goal for 2011. I kept it for 51 days. This was no small feat. I was pretty proud of myself. Cocky, you might say. Until February 20. I was rarely even tempted until then. And THEN, I collapsed into a puddle of Twix wrappers and half-eaten cookies. I thought I could have a one-day holiday and then just miraculously stop.

I was very wrong.

Seventeen days of reckless abandon with the sugar monkey on my back. Seventeen days of indulging and sweetening. Seventeen days of ornery grouchy mom.

After I'd fallen so hard, I had fully planned to use the Lenten period to reclaim control of my eating. Then, I read Anna's post, how Lent was going to be more than abstaining for her. It was going to be a more spiritual journey. So I contemplated, then added a spiritual goal to my eating resolution.

My goals for Lent: Give up sugar. And not just for Lent. The rest of the year.
Second, pray daily to see others how the Savior sees them--what makes them lovable in His eyes.


What are your Lenten goals?  Let's hear.

Confessions, Crises, and Corrections

It all began with one of these.  Tucker brought me a small bag of chocolate-covered cinnamon bears from BYU.  I'd never had one, heard of their tastiness, and decided I could recover from eating just one.
I  was wrong.  The entire (albeit small) bag disappeared to I-can't-imagine-where.  And it was downhill from there.  A double batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies.  I'll never be strong enough to withstand their unique temptation.  I realized that anew yesterday.

And you know how you have a comfort level on the scale?  You know--those 2-3 numbers that the scale fluctuates between and life's still livable?  My numbers are 1_2 to 1_5.  Today, that last number said 8.  Eight?  How did it get all the way up there?

Oh yeah. It's his fault.

You think you have something beat, and then reality rears its fuzzy little head.

I'm staying honest with y'all.  And I'm back on the train.

As for the second crisis (aside from the creeping scale), I accidentally DELETED my ENTIRE BLOG ROLL!  How this happened is beyond my understanding, but let's just attribute it to the crazy computer elves that gallivant in and out daily with the Smurfs.  It must be their fault.

I am going to try and replace it, but if your blog is still missing after a few days, PLEASE COMMENT!  This cyber world we live in is fragile and the trails we meander through space are unable to be retraced in many cases!

The Grand Experiment

image from here

Last night I tried an experiment.
Not a baking-soda-and-vinegar-type of experiment.

I tried sugar again.

Whoa. You were expecting something big, weren't you? Was it that big?

For those of you new to my corner of the world, I fight on and off with the sugar monkey that ferociously attaches himself to my back, ruling my life and ruining my mood. I swore off sugar for the month of June, with only one (wish I could say small but it was fairly large) foible as I was preparing for Tucker's exit into the big, scary world. As it so happens, I also successfully completed NINE days of vacation without succumbing to Grandma's homemade caramels, Haagen Dasz ice cream bars, or Oreos.  All told, excluding the one slip-up, I stayed sugar-free for 41 days. Are you impressed yet?

Yesterday afternoon I began craving chocolate chip cookies--the hardest temptation and greatest sugar monkey invitation in my life. What would happen, methought, if I made them and ate them? Would I be able to shake him off my back again, or would his teeth become so entrenched in my scapula that I would just surrender and swim with him in a vat of chocolate fudge?

I made a double batch. Dangerous.

I ate some dough. Mmmmmm. I ate a little more. MMMMMMM. I scooped and formed and aligned and at a little more. MMMMMM. I pulled the first trays from the oven, tested for temperature, and tasted one. MMMMM.  Then another.  Then, I lost count.

I added a strawberry pop-tart and a fudge round for good measure.  MMMMMM.  If I was off the wagon, I might as well indulge, right?

Then I went to bed with a gut-ache.

Today, around 11 am, I became inexplicably grumpy.  We're talking PMS grumpy (and I'm still nursing, so no periods).  And then, I added the variables together:

1 pop-tart

+ 1 fudge round

+cookie dough

+cookies innumerable

 _____________________

Grumpy girl

I hate to admit it, but sugar changes me into someone I dislike, someone who is irritable, feisty, grouchy, touchy, and impatient.  The experiment was successful.

Verdict:  I really can't have sugar. 

And that's okay.  It didn't taste that good anyway.

Good-bye, monkey.  It was nice seeing you again.

 

Sugar Monkey Update

So, I'm sure you've been wondering how I'm doing on the no-sugar challenge. You haven't, huh? You'd forgotten that I vowed to avoid sugar for the entire month of June? Well, click here for your friendly reminder.

And I must say, for the record, that I've done really well. Full disclosure--I did take a nose dive off the wagon one day last week when I was getting Tucker ready to leave, and I just needed a few (dozen) of my homemade chocolate chip cookies to assuage my pain. But that doesn't count, does it? I mean, you only lose your oldest son to college once in a lifetime, and if you can't drown your sorrows is balls of chocolate and fat, then what is worth living for, anyway?

One product I've found that I love is this:

I found these at Costco a few weeks ago. I know what you're thinking. These are just like every other fruity snack on the market--some fruit but mostly sugar or corn syrup. Nope. Check the label. I did.

See? Nothing. And they taste great! Really. It curbs my sweet tooth with just one small roll. And they're hidden in my armoire, away from little hands and mouths.

I also occasionally enjoy a Skinny Cow, no sugar added ice cream sandwich. They're okay. Especially if you're really hot from sitting out by the pool for hours.

And I should easily make it through to July 1. Not really even tempted to cheat (except that one day--and that doesn't count, right?).

This and That and the Other Thing--and a Confession

So, how are we doing on our summer list?
Unlike Phineas and Ferb (whom I totally adore!), we only have 81 days of summer vacation, so we have a lot to cram in and quickly. 
Cold Stone--check.  That was a reward for memorizing a quote--little kids had one, big boys had one. 
Southwest Museum--check. 
Today was free doughnut day at Krispy Kreme--check.  Good thing Micah had such a good report card, too.  We got an even dozen.  Can I tell you how much I respect KK as a business?  That is a cool thing to give free doughnuts for every A on the report card.  Patronize them.  I know a dozen is expensive.  But they're actually rewarding the top students for what?  Being the best.  Imagine that.

And how did no sugar for the month of June fit in with a visit to Krispy Kreme, you may ask?  Ask away.  I have nothing to hide.  Lily was extolling her first doughnut with comments like, "This is the best thing I've ever eaten in my entire life."  And then, in a fit of generosity, she offered me one.  Which I refused, thank you very much.  "No, Mom, really, just a glazed one."  (just a glazed one?  Doesn't she know that a glazed Krispy Kreme is like crack cocaine to me?) Nope.  I told the kids that I wasn't eating sugar, and Hyrum piped in from the back seat, with his lisp and stutter: "But Mommy, s-s-su-sugar is AWESOME!" I'm still sugar-free, even if it is awesome.  I was asked what some of my strategies are for scaring off the monkey.  Well, I try to tell as many people as I can so they keep me honest.  Really. That helps.  I also suck sugar-free Altoids.  Whoa, are they strong. Not only are they strong, but they make my tongue a little sore so I don't want to eat as much.  I also splurge on sugar-free popsicles, and I just found Skinny Cow has sugar-free ice cream sandwiches.  They're not too bad, really.  Plus, I really like butter.  So I make a lot of homemade super-buttery toast.  Maybe that's defeating the purpose, but it makes me feel less deprived, so if you find some indulgence you can actually enjoy in moderation, like one slice of toast,  . . . then I say do it.

Twelve days.  That's all he's got left here at home. We went through his stuff a little this week and made a list of what he needs.  I am going to miss this kid.  He brings so much excitement and happiness to our family.

I've found that focusing our summer on the kids has been really positive for them.  They are happier, they fight less and watch TV less, they play and interact and laugh more.  The only downside is that my stuff is all getting thrown by the wayside.  My hip hurt a little after I rode the bike twice, so I'm resting until tomorrow morning to see if it was the bike.  So no exercise.  I haven't been as regular as I should with my personal goals and my personal time--even showering has become scarcer.  My goal for this next week is to find the happy medium between their stuff and keeping my cup full enough that I can keep up with them.  That's hard as the mom, don't you think?

Evie sporting one of her new bibs from Grandma T

And now for the confession.  On Tuesday, my cell phone fell out of the Suburban while I was picking Lily up from Musical Theatre Workshop, and I didn't even know until the college called and told me.  So Wednesday afternoon, I threw Evie in the car and we drove to Mesa Community College.  I got out at the security office, got my phone, got back in the car, drove around to the music building, got out and searched for Lily and came back to the car.  That entire time I forgot Eve was even in the car.  It makes me sick to even admit it here.  I was in the security office maybe five minutes, a drive of less than two minutes,  then in the music building for maybe eight.  I can't believe I forgot about her.  She'd fallen asleep and didn't make a sound.  I know you may think that I'm overreacting a touch, but to leave your baby alone in a vehicle in an Arizona summer for more than 15-20 minutes can be fatal.  It happens to someone about once every summer.  And I used to think, "How could they do such a thing--forget their baby's in the car?"  Now I know.  When I got her out of her carseat at Gilbert High School where we were dropping Lily off, I felt her back and she wasn't even sweaty.  So she was never in any danger.  This time.  I'm devising a way to remind myself when she's in the car alone with me.  Maybe a piece of tape on the steering wheel.  Something.
I think this time was one of those inspired warnings that we sometimes get as moms.  I could never forgive myself from something like that.

And with that, have a safe weekend.

Stay tuned for a fun giveaway on Monday.

Bye-bye Monkey

Image from here

It's time to confess.
The sugar monkey has invaded my life again.
And I wonder why I'm so tired?  Kinda grumpy?  Five extra pounds on the scale? Did I mention tired?

I hate that I'm an "all-or-nothing" kind of gal.  But it's either nothing, or everything I see--a quiet raid of kids' candy stashes, handfuls of chocolate chips.  Even stealthy sips out of the Hershey's syrup bottle.

If I want this summer to be the one I have envisioned--a summer focused on my kids and making happy memories--I'm gonna have to take matters into my own hands.  And that means no more sugar.

Why does it all devolve upon the mom? 
So not fair.

But it will be worth it.  I'll have to keep reminding myself of that.  And you keep me accountable, okay?

And now, if you will excuse me, I need to perform a sugar exorcism.
And a few handfuls of M&Ms to "dispose" of.

This and That and the Other Thing

1. Do not attempt to wean yourself from sugar by purchasing the Sam's-Club-size white cheddar Cheez-Its.  Just take my word on this one. image from here

2. Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind and bring home the giant pixie sticks for your kiddos.  Sticky table and floor can be cleaned later. Shrieks of joy are worth it.   You should try it sometime.  image from here 

3. Publishing the fact that my favorite novel had disappeared (in my library organization challenge--read about it here) and had been replaced at half.com brought unexpected consequences. I discovered that I'd bought and lent a copy to my mom (who just couldn't get into it after 80 pages--if you're reading it or thinking about it, it needs more than 80 pages. It's 800+ pages long).  Then, I received a penitent phone call from a friend that will remain nameless, confessing that she'd borrowed it from me, lent it to everyone she knew, and now it was really in no shape to return to me.  Could I forgive?  Absolutely.  Now I have two copies of my very own.  Sometimes one copy just isn't enough of your favorite book. image from here

And if you can read that website, domo arigato!

4. I got to substitute in Seminary for the ninth graders on Thursday afternoon. (What is Seminary?  Read the official description here.) Can I just tell you that, despite what you hear on the news, the youth of our world are really trying to do the right thing, live good lives, and follow Christ? Can I just tell you how much I love teaching them doctrine and seeing the light turn on in their eyes? Can I just tell you how excited I am that I get to teach EFY again this summer? (For a description of Especially For Youth, click here.)

Have a great weekend!

This and That and the Other Thing

Thanks for all your input the last two weeks. Here's a little update:
Trying to keep it real around here. I wanted to post a picture of me with my most common hairstyle of late (baseball cap), but the only one of me was blurry, and I couldn't insult Brad's photog skills by letting the world see it. I just feel like I have NO TIME to do anything anymore.
I've fallen off the sugar wagon. Again. And it's seven weeks to the wedding. I see how much crankier and grumpier and moodier I am when I'm indulging, but sometimes the flesh is weak, and when it's weak, it's WEAK. I'm vowing March to be sugar-free. And I'm publishing it to keep me honest.
Heidi and Sam had their bridal shoot yesterday afternoon. The weather could not have been more perfect. It was about 70 degrees yesterday, little if any breeze, with clouds in the sky. If you're not an Arizonan, you don't realize how significant those clouds are. Rarely do we get "clouds," per se. It's usually very clear, very blue (and very hot), or it's cloudy and the heavens dump buckets. So we were so happy with the weather. It was strange to see my daughter in her wedding dress and know that this is reality. More on that some other time . . . it's still slightly raw for me.
Eve--I left her with my generous friend Shauna yesterday while I watched the bridal photo shoot. Shauna said, "She was really really cute and good. But she doesn't like the bottle, does she?" #1--read my blog. #2--No. #3--I wasn't even present, so I thought that it might be the bottlefeeding day. As Melinda said, compliant children are not my lot in life.
On Monday, you can count on pics of all my organizing for the 28-day challenge on Organizing Junkie. Hold your breath, friends. It's worth it.

I'm off to enjoy family for the last day before Heidi and Sam head back to ID. Have a great weekend!