Winter Blahs and Band-aids

OK, the grey sky is seeping into my soul. This little light of mine peeks it's head out after hot yoga for about an hour before sulking back into the mist of winter. Ugh. I don't know how anyone endures this for more than a few months. My hats off to them.
So my oldest little boo broke his collarbone at school tripping over his own feet. It's true you can't keep a good man down. He is bouncing, running and harrassing his brothers (at risk to his own health) through it all. I guess this is just a live-through-this moment in time.
Finally the scale has moved and The Grand Total is -4 lbs. Not earth shattering, but enough to give me hope. I needed it after last weekend's back slide into cookie dough. You won't believe, I actually ate a sweet potatoe for lunch yesterday--wha.? Maybe there is hope for me afterall, or maybe they can just figure out how to make alcohol healthy. Where are the forward-thinking scientists when you need them?
I gave up a list of things for Lent and cookie dough was definitely a bigfat NO. So when I confessed to hubbie that I slipped, he just replied, "That's alright. You'll only burn an extra day for each of those bites." ?!? What a sweetheart!

Say hello to my newest girls!

So to fight the grey I have been reverting to bandaids--boot shopping(clearance sales, whoop whoop, nobel prize for Nordie's and Dillards for giving February a boost), hot yoga and reading Malcolm Gladwell(gladwell.com). Now, I know the last two might seem more like a root canal than a day at the beach, but hear me out.
In regards to reading nonfiction, Gladwell is perfect for inspiring thoughts that have nothing to do with my immediate reality--nerdy escapism if you will. (Yes, I definitely have closet nerd in me.) Also, in his book The Tipping Point, he outlines three different personality types that drive social epidemics. It has gotten me thinking that many of us may over-state the importance of A TALENT--musical, artistic, athletic--in evaluating our worth, because who you are at your core might be even more influential than you know.
And... I had a yoga epiphany yesterday, or actually it was given to me by the divine yogii Amy. While Bikram yoga has been referred to as the torture chamber, she pointed out that by allowing your body to work so incredibly hard, it takes the pressure off your mind giving the ever active and neurotic electrical impulses a little peace. It's true--by focusing on breathe here, balance there, strengthen this, tighten that and bonda where the sun don't shine, it is absolutely impossible to obsess or worry about anything outside of those blue walls. It is optimal timing for that message too, because I was NOT happy during Bow and Locust. http://www.sivananda.org/teachings/asana/locust.html
Funny sidenote, as I was searching for a link for Locust, I literally laughed out loud when I saw the full progression of this position. It is safe to estimate that my feet are probably 2 inches off the ground and probably safer to estimate that they will never, never be anywhere near my head. Hillarious!
So that's how I am trudging through the last days of winter. Any other band-aid ideas would be greatly appreciated!

Twinkie, Twinkie Little Star

"Give me the twinkie. Give it to me know!" [Sounds of a struggle and then small feet running away.] "Come here you little__, give me that twinkie NOW!" That is the daydream I had right before picking the kids up for school: ripping a sweet treat out of my children's clutches to shove in my face and loving every minute of it. Never mind that I don't like twinkies, nor do I keep them in my house, and probably have not even tasted one since the 4th grade. Oh and I guess I'm not really for stealing from little kids, but...
I am hungry, dammit!
OK, fair warning that this is going to be a bit of a rant. I am cranky and hungry and Aunt Flo just stopped by for a visit(oops too much info, ho well) But here goes
I...HATE...EATING...HEALTHY. Anyone with me? And I swear it only gets harder not easier.
This started out as one of my New Year's Resolutions because 4 lbs had creaped to 8 lbs and, one very sad morning, the scale told me I had reached double digit status. It was time to reverse and Jan 1 is as good a time as any.
This is not one of those fishing for compliments bullshit. I know that some of my friends--especially my good ones like April who will lie to my face to make me smile--insist I am full of shit and not fat, BUT, when only ONE pair of my denim, that I paid a pretty penny for (or tens of thousands of pretty pennies, but who's counting) fits, there is a problem. I also know that the muffin top is not of my imagination--especially when dearest husband likes to pinch it and laugh. (Yes, I know I am sadistic for being married to him, but he does have his moments. It's just that that was not one of them...) Not to mention that I went through alot of moolah and alot of pain to discover that the tummy tuck is truly one of the most incredible medical advances of our day-genome project?whatever. (Kudos here to Kyle-dearest for paying for said miraculous tuck even though he was STRONGLY against it.)
So anyways, with the support of my sis who is also on a healthy kick(but that's a-whole-nother story) I am "eating clean". I am following the Eat Clean book by Tosca Reno which advocates eating every 2-3 hours(check), protein and complex carbs at each meal(...uhm, check?) and sugar in any form--white bread, pasta, rice, chocolate, ALCOHOL--is poison and should be completely avoided (.... .... .... Bueller? Bueller?).
Why do I hate myself so much as to do this? This feels not like 'my body is my temple', but more like 'my body is my torture chamber'. The books says that I will feel so good that I wouldn't dream of going back to my toxic ways. Let's just say that's a bit of an overstatement.

Yes, I feel better, but is it better than how I feel while I am indulging in Cherry Garcia in July, or cracking open a Bud Lite on a Bad Day, or savoring every cheese inspired bite of pizza JUST BECAUSE i LIKE PIZZA?!
So it has been 34 days (I actually started on the 2nd), no fast food, only 1 tiny trip to BWW and alcohol only when I really needed it(none of your business how often that really is) and I have lost a whopping 1.6 lbs. What?! Ever?!
[Moment of pissed off silence please...]

So because I can't afford to buy a new jean wardrobe and because of serendipity--more on that in a moment--I am now writing ev-er-ee-thing-guh down. It turned out that my super healthy muesli b-fast was actually costing me 720 cals a day because I didn't notice the serving size was only a 1/4 cup ( I wish you could have seen my face when I had that epiphany )and that I desperately needed a plan for 3:30 PM when the kids are flaunting their cheetos in my face.
So with renewed vigor in month 2, onward and downward--in size--hopefully.
So the serendipitious moments I was referring to: Did anyone see the Oprah (sans bonbons) about where our food comes from and what it actually does to our bodies? Here's a stat, U.S. humas take 3 Mill lbs of antibiotics per year. U.S. food animals take 28 Mill lbs of those puppies, hence so do we. And here I thought the trend toward antibiotic resistance and the inevitable superbugs were all because of too many Z-pacs. I would go on, but really the rest is too depressing--think hormones, toxins, steroids and preservatives which basically make us fat, sick, ugly and old. NICE. Oh and the comment on there when they said that the 'low-fat' food trend that ramped up in the 80's is one of the leading causes of the obesity and diabetes crisis, because afterall if you lower fat, you have to substitute it with sugar to make up for the taste. Double NICE.
I also was just assigned an onslaught of medical profiles in which I listened to doctor after doctor say sugar and convenience foods are the devil. Even a vascular surgeon who depends on us clogging our arteries or stroking out to stay in business, is fed up(sorry bad pun).
So the bottom line is I ain't goin' out like that. Nuh-uh. I'd rather be cranky now than infirm later. To my boys: "Sorry. I know mommy is cranky now someday you'll thank me for towing the line." Unless of course I refuse to take my hormone meds and am making your adult lives miserable and then of course maybe you'll wish you would have shared your twinkie.