D-I-E-T – Latin origin – diaeta- meaning ‘way of life’. The meaning doesn’t sound so bad, but why is it that when anyone says”I going on a diet.” they get the look of dread on their face?
I quit telling people I was dieting when I started getting that look . You know the one. The one that says, “Here she goes again!” I don’t diet anymore, I have just changed my way of eating. In other words my “way of life.”
Rusty always had the fear that when I was dieting, he would be dieting. It really freaked him out when I told him I wasn’t eating meat, except for fish & seafood, anymore. I saw the terrified look on his face. He just knew I would no long buy or cook meat for him . I finally told him that I was changing my way of eating , not his. An adult has to decide on their own when they want to make changes. A child can be taught what is good for them and what is bad. But it starts at home.
I think I have started to rub off on Rusty. He trys to eat more fish for the omega 3, I only cook red meat a couple of times a week , he doesn’t eat fast food as often and he watches his portions. I am proud of him.
Speaking of portions……I have seen that method work with several people. A lot of us were not taught proper portions. All commercial food packaging has serving sizes, but when we get that bag of chips that is staring us in the face, while waiting at the checkout, do we read the bag where it says “2 servings” and eat 1/2 the bag? Noooo. And what’s with the packages that have “2-1/2 servings”? You have to get two to make it come out even, because who wants 1/2 a serving?
Living in the deep south can also present portion problems. Not to mention fried foods. From foot long fried shrimp poboys to deep fried oreos. OMG! if you haven’t tried fried Oreo’s you need to at least once.! We know how to clog an artery in the south! I don’t denigh myself of any of that. No way! I just try to keep that poboy to 1/2 or less and eat one of those fried oreos. It’s all about control. Yea, Yea, Yea….. I am only human sometimes I do get out of control.
Like with pasta. I can’t control how much I cook. I always cook the whole pack for just two of us. My brain does not stop to think that just because I opened the pack I do not have to cook the whole thing. Then I put about 2 cups of pasta on my plate with only 1/2 cup of sauce. Ok! I will not have seconds! I will not have seconds! Oh what the hell! I already ate a piece of garlic bread. And it is whole wheat pasta. Then as I am cleaning up and Rusty is involved in his favorite TV show I toss about another 2 cups in the pot that is coated with the sauce I just put up and I eat on that while I am cleaning. I hear a commercial, oh shit he coming in the kitchen. Put lid on pot! Chew ,chew ,swallow! Smile! Shit I’m caught!
“Hi, My name is Tisha and I’m a pastaholic.” Yes this is my sickness! There is nothing else I will make a pig of myself for. To hide in the kitchen and finish it off …. OMG! I feel failure and shame! I have decided to not have pasta in my house for a while. I will resort to only eating it every once in a while when we are out. That is the only way I can control my self. ARE THERE ANY SUPPORT GROUPS OUT THERE!