#73 I'm Passionless... in the Kitchen

I think I'll write a book; The Passionless Cook.

On October 31st, we had our quasi annual Halloween party, and I decided to serve pumpkin soup as one of the hors d'oeuvres. It's my father-in-law's recipe, and I'll be honest, I've made this soup a number of times, and it never tastes as good as his.

Most people don't know this about me, but I have little confidence in the kitchen. I'll admit, I make some pretty yummy challah french toast, and I'm amazing on the grill with salmon and steak, but besides those two endeavors, I'm a hit-or-miss kind of cook. Anyway, during the party, I did receive a number of compliments on the pumpkin soup, but the most special compliment came from a neighbor down the street. He emailed to say thanks, and mentioned that he enjoyed my pumpkin soup. I was very flattered since I consider him a very talented cook, and a compliment from him was, well, better than nice. A few days later we bumped into each other at a neighborhood store. We chatted, and I mentioned that I aspire to his prowess in the kitchen. He shrugged his shoulders and said something like, I'm not sure that I'm that great, I just really love to cook. I realized then [well, I probably verbalized an old realization]... that I really don't like to cook. If money were no object, I'd hire a personal chef before hiring someone to do the laundry and bathrooms... that's how much I don't enjoy it. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate to cook, I just don't like to cook.

Perfect example -- I have another neighbor whose dishes and desserts are delish, and needless to say, she also loves to cook. My husband has told me on a number of occasions that their house is "one of his favorite restaurants". One evening, my neighbor served a wonderful chicken dish with a side of Moroccan rice. I ate with an almost spiritual devotion, enjoying the flavors and textures, until I was so stuffed I thought my pants were going to lacerate my belly roll. It's not hard to guess on which side of a meal my passions lie.

A day or two later when I called to thank her for dinner, I also asked for the chicken and rice recipes. I had decided that I would make this meal for an extended family dinner later that month. Let's just say that when I cut into my piece of chicken and started to chew, I knew that my lack of loving to cook was right there in my mouth. I almost gave myself masseter-itis [masseter - def: thick muscle in the cheek that assists in chewing; itis - def: suffix denoting inflammation] trying to break down that little piece of chicken so that I could swallow it. I had to chew... and chew... and chew...

And, as I sat there exercising my masseter muscles, it dawned on me that if you do something without having or feeling a passion for it, then that lack of passion can definitely be "tasted", if not by others, then definitely by you.

Quote of the Day: "Everything I eat has been proved by some doctor or other to be a deadly poison, and everything I don't eat has been proved to be indispensable for life. Yet, I go marching on." George Bernard Shaw

#72 The Rabbi Says....

While I was reading the Rabbi's monthly chat in the synagogue newsletter, I got inspired for this week's babble. I'm borrowing the Rabbi's pre-story used for his chat as my pre-story to my babble.

A rabbi once asked the members of his congregation, "What is the holiest day of the Jewish calendar?" "That's easy", one woman responded. "The holiest day is the Sabbath". "No," said another. "The holiest day is Yom Kippur when God grants us atonement for our sins." Other days were discussed and debated, but the rabbi finally put a stop to this exercise by sharing what he thought the holiest day should be. He chose the 11th of Tishrei as the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. "What holy day falls on the 11th of Tishrei?" the congregants all asked. "The 11th of Tishrei is the day after Yom Kippur. And this is the holiest day of the year because it is the day that we begin to see if we really intended to keep any of the promises we made."

For those of you who aren't Jewish and/or who don't know about Yom Kippur, it is a very holy day for the Jewish people. It comes 10 days after the Jewish New Year, and it is on this day that the Jews ask God for forgiveness for any and all sins committed. The 25-hour period that is spent worshipping, fasting, and reflecting on the past year is intended to encourage an inner change, a "return to living life as God expects of us". The disciplines of the day [fasting and worshipping] are intended to encourage us to restrain ourselves from our "drives," such as hunger, sex or anger - so that through the Rabbi's sermon and reading scripture, we can be guided toward a more meaningful way of life.

What caught my attention and inspired this babble is the idea of intention. Did I follow through on my promise?

What do I promise myself and fail at consistently? To eat healthy. How many times have I promised myself that "today's the day I'm going to start my diet", or in the past 10 years, to eat healthier, and cut out processed foods? I have said this sentence [or something like it] so many times in my life, and so many times, I have let myself down. When I started working on this babble, I thought about gluttony compared to other sins - like disrespect to one's elders, arrogance, envy, wantonness, greed, disregard for other's property, and so on. I don't mean to belittle the day of Yom Kippur by raising gluttony to the most sinful. I am just sharing how the Rabbi's pre story about "following through" made me think of my past [and sometimes present] failures with dieting.

During the service on the evening before Yom Kippur, we say something like this.... Look at us G-d, see what miserable sinners we are. We make promises to live better each year and yet we always seem to fall far short of keeping those promises. We ask you G-d to pardon us for our shortcomings.

Well, when it comes to dieting and eating healthy, we don't need to ask G-d for forgiveness. We don't need to ask for forgiveness from anyone but ourselves. We need to accept that we are weak in the arms of a canoli, and move on. We need to accept that the aroma of cookies baking in the oven make our hearts go pitter patter, and move on. It's all about our INTENTION. If our intentions are good and true, then we can start again to honor our bodies by feeding them in a healthy way.

So this is what I've learned, and this is how I try to treat myself. I don't harp on my weakness for sweets. I make mistakes. I eat unhealthy foods. Instead of insulting my inability to stay in control, I am instead, kind and understanding. This is how I would treat another person who has "slipped". The 11th of Tishrei can be every day in the life of a "dieter". Yom Kippur is a day to reflect on the values and responsibilities to yourself, as well as to the world. As my rabbi says in his chat, you aren't a hypocrite if you truly believe and intend to change. He says, "...that we need to realize the divine potential that we each possess, and to take the steps needed to make our good intentions come to fruition."

Quote of the Day: "Your life is not meant to get easier, it is meant to take on new and greater responsibilities. This is the pathway to self-fulfillment and self-worth." Dr. John Demartini - healer, trainer, writer

#71 Eating Like a Bear, Literally

World's Fattest Man Eats 20,000 Calories a Day [printed in Martha Edwards posts Oct 21st 2009 9:00AM]

Worlds fastest swimmer eats 12,000 calories a day while training.

Average sized bear eats 20,000 calories
a day.

Sumo wrestlers eat between 18,000 and 20,000 calories/daily

When I saw that headline, Man Eats 20,000 calories, well, I just couldn't resist clicking on the link to see what 20,000 calories a day looks like, or perhaps what I really wanted to see was what a person who eats 20,000 calories a day looks like. Put it down to morbid curiosity.

Mr. Paul Mason has the dubious distinction of being the heaviest man on earth, weighing in at 976 pounds. It seems that Mr. M., aged 48, had to eat 2,000 (oops, I forgot a zero), I mean 20,000 calories daily to gain back the weight (250 lbs) he had lost while in the hospital recuperating from "a life-saving operation". For those of you who don't understand calories or count calories, that number, 20,000, is about 10 times more then the amount a 48-ish year old active man should be eating to maintain his weight. I need to share -- I'm actually a little jealous; not of stuffing my pie hole with 20,000 calories/daily, but a 2,000 calorie day does sound like a nice change from my 1,300 calorie day.

Of course, the honor of being Mr Biggest doesn't come without its problems. Mr. M rarely leaves his bed, and has 7 around the clock care-givers taking care of his daily needs. Let's stop here for a sec. Mr. Biggest and I are the same age [give or take a year], and having 7 people take care of my daily [and probably pretty intimate] needs because I was too fat to do it myself, would be humiliating and horrifying. (NOTE: I know there are people living this way due to debilitating diseases that necessitate the use of round the clock caregivers. I believe Mr. M is in a different category.) In the on-line article, the author, pretty much said that she really couldn't feel sorry for Mr. M since his goal was to become this way.

Mr. Mason can't travel in a car or on an airplane, and when he had to be rushed to the hospital for the above life-saving surgery, the British Air Force had to airlift him there. As to his clothing needs, I'm guessing that they're custom made. Truthfully, though, why bother getting dressed at all, as in underclothing, shirt and pants? If my "job" was eating 20,000 calories a day, and not moving from one spot, I think a mu mu would do just fine; it would definitely make it easier for my 7 caregivers. Actually, before husband and kids, there were probably a couple of days a year where I would plant my tush on the sofa, watch movies, catch up on missed TV shows, nap, read, eat all my meals in front of the TV, and never get out of my PJs. I looked at these days as a bonus day, not a lifestyle.

I'm not trying to sound nasty here, nor insensitive to the plight of the obese, and unlike Ms. Edwards the author of the article, I do feel a little sad and sorry for Mr. M. However, as we know, there are thousands of people living with body weights of 300 pounds and up. I TRULY BELIEVE that the last thing any of them would want is to add a few more pounds -- let alone another 200 or 300.

Oh, and just in case you're interested, it costs the British government $164,000 U.S. dollars a year to keep Mr. Mason alive. As of 2009, the cost of his care reached the $1 million mark

Quote of the Day: "I realized that I'm more important than food. I love a big slice of pizza, but I love myself more." Valerie Bertinelli

#70 When Your Body Knocks, Do You Answer?

When it comes to your health, the worst thing a person can have is a high tolerance for pain, a non-pushy temperament, an "I don't want to rock the boat" personality, and a life that is so busy and hectic, that there is no time to "take off". Since this is breast cancer awareness month, I thought I would write a babble that stresses how important it is for us to know our bodies intimately, and not to be put off when a doctor doesn't have all the answers. This babble isn't meant to scare anyone, but rather to remind us all not to ignore that little voice that tells us that something "just ain't right". Honor your body. And for my male readers, share this with the women in your life so that they know you care about their bodies IN EVERY WAY.

I was waiting for my daughter and leafing through an old People Magazine, when I came across an article that was titled, "Fighting to Stay Alive". It is the story about a member of the rap group TLC, Tionne Watkin, and her life before and just after the discovery of a brain tumor. The debilitating headaches that she experienced for nearly 6 years, ones that would have sent the most stoic person to the doctor, were, she thought, due to stress, her disease and the demands of her career. Tionne has sickle-cell anemia, and because of this disease, her pain tolerance is extremely high. Only when she started experiencing blurry vision did she go see a doctor, and it was after her MRI, that a brain tumor the size of a grapefruit was discovered.

Wow, I thought, as I replayed in my head a conversation I had earlier in the day. That morning, my friend "Cleopatra" called to cancel an upcoming date . She didn't sound very good, so I asked if she was ill. Her response was not what I expected. She told me that she had just returned home from the hospital, where her left ovary and fallopian tube were removed. Cleo has spent the last 5 years explaining to any doctor who would listen, that something just wasn't right with her left side.... especially during ovulation. She visited many different specialists, but to no avail. She was told that her pain could possibly be due to some adhesions that she may have developed from her 2 C-sections, but nobody was ever sure. During the past five years, the pain has increased and decreased, but has never gone away. This last time though, was so painful, that she had to walk doubled over, and after 2 days of intense pain, she took herself to the emergency room. Long story short, she had a raging infection that, she was told, had been brewing for a very long time. On numerous occasions she remembers asking her doctor, "Is this pain normal?", and on her last visit, the doctor told her that she had probably pulled a muscle. My very smart friend sat there nodding her head trying to think when, in the last five years, she may have pulled "this muscle". I know you must be wondering why nobody found this problem earlier. It seems, there are 2 reasons. First, the infection was what the doctors [suspected was] encapsulated or walled off; it never spread. Second, poor Cleo has had at least 2-3 bouts of sinusitis a year for the past couple of years, plus she had bronchitis, pneumonia and meningitis during this 5 year period. With each infection and illness, she was given antibiotics. And, if you've ever had a sinus infection [which I have], you are sometimes put on antibiotics for a month, or more, to kill whatever disgusting stuff is living in your sinus'. Ironically, because Cleo had been healthy for the past 5-6 months and not on any antibiotics, the infection was able to intensify enough so that when the ultrasound was taken [for the 3rd time], something finally showed up.

I have worked in the healthcare field as both a clinician and as an administrator, and yet, when I am a patient, I wait my turn patiently, spend my rushed 10 minutes with the doctor, and then sit there nodding my head in response to what the doctor is saying, when what I really should be doing, is asking more questions and/or giving more symptoms. In today's healthcare atmosphere, we need to be our own advocates. We no longer have a doctor that follows us from childhood to adulthood, and knows all our family members and their medical histories. Both Cleo and Tionne lived with "their problem" because they were able to... up to a point. Thank goodness, the outcome for both, was a good one.

Quote of the Day: "Once you choose hope, anything's possible" Christopher Reeve

#69 Body Dysmorphia

Joan Rivers on Aging: "Once I thought some guy pinched my nipple and it turns out he accidentally stepped on it."

Bette Midler on Aging: "After thirty, a body has a mind of its own."

Lucille Ball on Aging: "As a woman 'matures' it's best to use a make-up table with everything close at hand - and don't rush; otherwise you'll look like a patchwork quilt."

Bobbie on Aging: If one must adjust to growing older, and age is an issue of mind over matter, then how I mind my matter needs some adjusting.

A couple of years ago, I went to the salon for the usual - a trim, highlights, and some low lights. After sitting there for 2 hours and shelling out a ridiculous sum of money, I came home and thought, not for the first time, that I didn't really like my new haircut. However, this is pretty typical for me since it usually takes about two or three days before I figure out how to style my new cut, and for the products they used to be washed out. This time, though, was different. Nothing I did worked. That's when I decided that this "do" wouldn't do. I told a friend how I was feeling. She said something like -- I should go back because my hair happiness is an advertisement for my salon and stylist. Four days post haircut, I returned to the salon and told "Spartacus" how I was feeling. He was very nice and told me to sit in his chair and he would "fix" it.

As the minutes ticked by, I sat there staring at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out what it was I didn't like. I lifted my hair off my neck, I made make-believe bangs, and so on. It was when I pulled part of my hair back into an Alice in Wonderland style [that's what my mom always called it when we were little] that the light bulb went off. I pulled tighter. OMG, it wasn't my hair I didn't like, it was my face!! Something, it seemed, had happened since my last visit!!! My eye lids looked heavy, my cheeks were, well, not where they were supposed to be, and I saw lines around my mouth that I didn't remember seeing last time. Now don't start with, "oh Bobbie, you're so hard on yourself" thoughts; I wasn't seeing an "old lady" sitting in the chair, but I wasn't seeing the "young" lady that I picture in my head.

Fifteen minutes later when Spartacus walked over to discuss what we should do, I told him that my hair was fine and that it was my face I needed to deal with. Of course, he told me I was foolish and silly [which I'm not sure was true, but especially liked hearing with his accent]. Although I do think I have a slight problem with body dysmorphia, I am able to step back and perform an honest critique of my body parts. While Spartacus droned on, I sat in his chair wondering if 42 was too young for a face/cheek/eye lift, and would my husband be willing to shell out $10,000 for a "birthday gift". I walked out of the salon wondering what other 42 year old women do when they feel this way....

I changed my hair dresser....

photo - me at 31
photo - me at 40
2 photos - me at 47, the no make-up, no hair done Bobbie, and the public Bobbie

Quote of the Day: "Start slowly because direction is so much more important than speed" author unknown

#68 How NOT to Stop a Crying Baby

Last Saturday, with a couple of hours to spare, I went shopping at my favorite chic boutique, TJ Max. Since the cold weather season is approaching, and also at my daughter's request, I went in search of some winter duds for her. I was zen shopping, oblivious to everything but the sweaters in front of me, when the sound of a crying baby interrupted my trance. I tried to ignore it, but then I heard the mother, in a loud voice, say NO! The baby [more than 1 less than 2, I later saw] stopped crying, but I could still hear his/her hiccupping boo hoos.

As I continued sweater seeking, humming along with Cheryl Crow and Elton John, I was once more jerked out of my trance. This time it wasn't by a loud voice, but the sound of a slap. I looked up, and in slow-mo, watched this little girl work herself up for an all-out howl. I looked around to see if anyone else was as upset as I felt. Oh Yes!! There were a number of women, moms and daughters all looking at each other and at me. I saw the baby's mom look at us looking at her. "Dare me" her eyes said. With just a twinge of fear, I took on her dare. I very nicely and calmly told this young mother that baby's are programmed to cry when they feel pain and that hitting a baby is not the way to get them to stop crying. That's all I said. I walked to the next rack where I was able to hear a woman say to the mom, "it's 4:00 in the afternoon, baby witching hour. It's just not a good time for babies and mommies. We're all tired. Be patient". Then, another woman told the mom that hitting is never the answer and that she should try a different method. Everyone was quiet and polite, but I know, in my heart, that we were just talking into the wind.

I decided to leave -- my heart just wasn't into shopping anymore. I kept replaying that mother's look and what I had said. As I walked over to the check out line, heart still racing, I hoped that I hadn't done the wrong thing. I was standing in line, waiting to pay for my few things, when a women came over to me and said that I was very brave for having said something. A few more in line nodded along with her. Brave? I wasn't brave. I have no armor to protect me from watching a child, or for that matter, an animal, unjustly hurt. They are, in different ways, defenseless... I HAD to say something.

As I reached my car, I once again realized the power of one voice. If one person speaks up, others will follow. Had I not told the young mother that hitting wasn't the way to stop a baby from crying, perhaps those other ladies might not have had the courage to speak up. Who knows if my saying anything, or those other women saying their piece, had an impact on that mother, but perhaps it had an impact on someone else in that store... someone who has been too scared to speak up, but may now take that chance.

Quote of the Day: "The good life is inspired by love and guided by knowledge" Bertrand Russell (English philosopher, logician, mathematician and, historian)

#67 Should There Be an Extra Tax on Soft Drinks?

We know there's an obesity epidemic in the United States. We also know Americans make poor food choices and have begun to think that super sized meals are the norm. Recently, in The New England Journal of Medicine, an article was written where the authors recommended a way to help with obesity as well as a way to help with the cost of healthcare. They say: tax soft drinks and sugary drinks. As I see it, this "argument" could go three ways. First, the tax may deter people if the cost of soda truly becomes unaffordable. Second, the billions of dollars raised by this tax could help offset the burden obesity puts on the healthcare system. And third, it could totally backfire. Truthfully though, I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's the old punish bad behavior vs promoting good behavior. How about helping to reduce obesity while promoting wellness? Instead of taxing "bad", why not subsidize good - like fruits and veggies?

Is too much intervention good? I mean, of the government kind. Once upon a time there was prohibition -- Bad. Next came the cigarette tax -- Good. Ironically, just a few weeks ago, I had a mini debate where I argued on the side of government intervention. My "opponent" was saying that we [the US] are so 1984 -- you know, big brotherish. I told him that I was ok with public space spying [cameras on the interior and exterior of buildings, etc], especially if it deterred and/or solved crimes. Lets just say that he let me know, in not such a nice way, that he didn't agree with me. Well, now here I am thinking that maybe taxing soft drinks has gone just a little too far. Could we possibly next see an increased tax on items with hydrogenated oils? Trans fat? Too much sugar? Of course, the piggy-who-can't-control-herself-part-of-me sort of wishes that this would happen [with chocolate products only], but the grown-up who should be in control of her food and life thinks, WE the consumer, must take responsibility. Plus, I think the tax would have to be very, very, very high to make the price of soft drinks exorbitant to its "users". If caffeine is as addictive as nicotine, and people are willing to pay $5.00+ per pack of cigarettes, well even I can do that kind of of math...

Quote of the Day: "There is many a slip twixt the cup and the lip" Richard Harris

#66 Body Protuberances

While perusing the Internet for my daily dose of news the other day, an article's title caught my attention. It said, "Young Designer Uses 'Normal-Sized' Models at London Fashion Week - Casting Director and Stylist Walk Out". It seems that this young Canadian designer, Marc Fast, mixed in normal sized models [US sizes 8-10] with his toothpick strutters against the wishes of the casting director and stylist. When asked why he did this, he explained that he was trying to show that his form-fitting knit wear looks good not only on the slim and slender, but can also be worn by the "everyday" gal.

Well, Marc honey, I am that everyday gal. I wear a size [US] 6 or 8 depending on the designer and the style, and I can tell you, Sweetie, that when it comes to clingy knitwear, the "normal" body with its curves and protuberances just doesn't look as good as the slim and bulge-less. I'm not talking skeletal, as in [US] negative zero, nor am I saying that we [the collective we] look bad. I'm just saying that we don't look "as good", like we forgot to put on our full-body spanks or something.

What can I say? It's just my opinion. When I look in magazines and see plus size or normal size females modeling dresses, slacks, skirts and jeans, I honestly don't like the outfit as much as when I see a "model" wearing them. And, the answer is so simple: Fantasy!! Along with a little Desire and Hope thrown in. I want to believe that when I put on those slacks, silk blouse, suede boots, and chunky funky belt, that I will look [exactly] like Jessica Alba or Cindy Crawford or Halle Berry. I mean for crying out loud, I have brown hair and brown eyes too, ya know!

Which brings me to my next rant. I love reading medical studies. Especially the ones now reporting that a little extra fat is not such a bad thing. For example, in August, the Canadian Obesity Journal reported that a little extra weight can protect one against mortality, and that being too thin may be associated with a higher risk of death. Hmmm. Haven't we also read that people who reduce their calories to the point of starvation [while getting all their needed vitamins and nutrients of course] have a better chance of longevity, and with fewer instances of disease?

Are we confused? Baffled? Well, sure we are. How about a little red wine? Nope. Some studies believe that 'a glass a day keeps the doctor at bay' is false, and that no alcohol is best. How about some caffeine. Nope. This too is under question. It seems that one cup of Joe is just one too many, and I read a BLOG a few weeks ago that reminded me of the "no fat" diet craze that was later proven to be way off base. These studies that make our brains ping pong back and forth make me nuts. Nu?

What I've decided is that moderation has to be the answer. Too much, or too little for that matter, are just not specific enough. I'm waiting for the study that says, 3 scoops of ice cream are better for you than 2 scoops because after 3 scoops you are full and satisfied, but after 2 scoops, "studies show" that the average person is still unsatisfied -- which may lead them back to the freezer for additional scoopage. Best to play it safe with 3 scoops... don't you think?

Quote of the Day: "There's no telling how many miles you will have to run while chasing a dream" -Author unknown

#65 Candy Corn - How I Love Thee

Note to Reader: This babble was posted last year around Halloween. Nothing has changed....it's September 20th and I've already gotten into the candy corn.

Every year around this time I do something terrible. I buy candy corn. I know you're thinking how terrible can that be? Well, I just don't buy candy corn, I crave it. And once I start eating it, it's very hard to stop. Sometimes, before I even know it, I've popped 10 sweet kernels into my mouth, and as the 11th goes in, I begin to get the shakes and feel nauseous. It's usually when I'm feeling this way that I question my sanity [Aren't there better things to crave?]. What's amazing though, is that once Halloween is over, I can pass candy corn in any venue and have absolutely no desire for it. I mean zilch. You could even offer me some and I'd very easily so no thank you.

This year, however, things started out a tiny bit differently than previous years. This year I started buying my candy drug in September. I usually wait till at least the first week in October, but for some reason [I'll guess an emotional one] I allowed myself a small bag of Brach's candy corn. On the 4th day, when that last kernel was eaten, I contemplated the possibility that I had gotten them out of my system early.

NOT! About a week later, I arrived home to find a package from UPS on my porch. I opened it and there inside was a small bag of candy corn. Sooooo sweet!!! Not the corn, but my 12 year old daughter. Being the understanding, wonderful and nurturing person she is, she sent me a care package. To make a long story short, I OD'd on them the second day and had to head upstairs for a sugar-induced nap. During my afternoon siesta, my husband told my daughter to go hide the candy corn and to dole it out sparingly... and only if I begged. Humph!! I don't know at whom I'm angrier? My daughter for buying it, my husband for hiding it, or me for my lack of control over it.

Fortuitously [or not], I found the stash of candy corn. As I was sitting at my desk this afternoon answering emails and munching on my drug of choice, I dropped a few. Iggy, our adopted dog, knows that when something drops he has to wait for permission to eat it otherwise he would be eating buttons, staples, you name it. Well, you'll never believe what happened. The minute Iggy saw what had fallen, he lunged for those 3 yellow, orange and white tipped sweeties. I swear, we had a fist to paw fight over them.

As I sat there staring at my dog and three lost candy corn, it came to me in a flash: Oh my G-d, Iggy's previous owners had turned him into a candy corn addict!!! I smiled... it's nice to have a junkie buddy.

Quote of the Day: "The chains of habit are generally too small to be felt until they are too stong to be broken" Samuel Johnson

#64 Dairy Queen, and Then Some

For a number of reasons, yesterday wasn't a great day. First, I had too much to do, but all I really wanted to do was sit on the porch swing and read. Second, I walked into the corner store to get my post-power-walk coffee just as freshly baked [the aroma was to die for] bagels were being delivered. Third, there was an entry in my date book that read, Brunch-11:00. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out if this was a mistake or if I/we really had a brunch. Since I am a very organized person, I figured I wrote this in as a "maybe", but never confirmed it. Just in case, though, I called a few people, asked my husband and kids, and even called my neighbor on her cell when I saw her speeding out of her driveway at 10:45 to ask her if I was supposed to be where she was heading. Laughing, she said no. Alas, I just couldn't remember, ate one of those blasted bagels, and got on with my day.

I was heading back home after chauffeuring my son to his tennis lesson, my dog to the vet for a bath, and my daughter to her rehearsal when I started fantasizing about installing a port-a-potty and kitchenette in the car. I was really getting into the design when my cell phone rang. Hello, I said. On the other end was my friend Pam who asked, "Are you lost?". I stared out at the road thinking lost?, when I suddenly remembered what that 11:00 brunch entry was. Horrified at this faux pas, I pulled onto a side street, apologized profusely, and tried not to sound like the idiot I felt. It was Pam's 50th birthday brunch being hosted by her daughter, and I was supposed to be there with heels on and gift in hand. My bad! I'm bad! Just plain bad!

Those two paragraphs above lead up to this: We are neither alone nor original in how we deal with our small universe. Hear me out.

I'm upset about Pam, frustrated about all the driving hither and yon, and numb from standing in forever lines at 3 different supermarkets [Whole Foods, Trader Joes and Acme]. To me, this back and forth, in and out of the car is the most exhausting thing in the world. On my way to pick up my daughter, I decide that I would feel a whole lot better if I had a Dairy Queen vanilla cone with chocolate sprinkles. Yep. That's what would make me feel better. It's 5:00 PM, but what the hell -- I buy the cone -- I didn't really enjoy it.

I picked up my daughter and headed home. When we got home, I was truly in no mood to make dinner, but I had defrosted chicken and it needed to be cooked. While the chicken was doing its thing, I decide to do mine - improve my mood by munching on some mini chocolate donuts [PMS stash - although a bit old and stale, I still ate them]. After dinner, I answered emails and in response to a friend's question of how I'm doing, I write back about my day and the food I used to boost my spirits. This is what my friend [with the PhD in Psychology] wrote back:

I had Dairy Queen this week too - a chocolate cone with chocolate sprinkles. I found it very unsatisfying because I wanted a strong chocolate taste - so I immediately drove to 7 - 11. They have a chocolate brownie there that understands what chocolate means. I felt guilty about eating such bad food and thought perhaps I was PMSing, but I was wrong. The job of parenting is about endless giving, which becomes depleting, which is why we sometimes try to fill up again - with something, anything, that is for us - a private joy if you will.

Wow, two educated, healthy-eating, caring about our bodies, exercise freaks eating dairy queen and then some. It struck me that if she and I were doing this, there must have been hundreds [thousands?] of other men and women eating their "Dairy Queen" and then some. See what I mean? We're not alone...

Quote of the Day: "Do or do not. There is no try" Yoda

#63 Bobbie is Babbling

Singing The Calorie Blues

I was recently in NYC and realized that if I lived there, I might starve... or become very, very healthy. This realization had nothing to do with how much I walked, nor the prices at restaurants. This OMG moment happened at a corner deli when I noticed extra numbers next to the prices and realized that they were calories. It seems that restaurant chains [those with 3 or more eating establishments] are required to post the calories for the food they serve http://www.reuters.com/article/healthNews/idUSN1847047920080720720. Since I now know exactly how many calories are in a NY bagel [without butter] and a plain slice of pizza, I'm thinking of never allowing these foods to pass by my lips again. Yeah right!!

Born Round

Funny and thought provoking book about a guy [Frank Bruni, food critic] who tells his story about being born "round". This got me thinking about big babies. Some people are just born big, or big boned, but does their continued bigness have to do with the amount of food they eat? Does one thing "feed off" the other? My son was born big, almost 9 pounds. He was my chunky toddler, and I shopped in the husky departments until he had his growth spurt. He is now 5'10" and slim. Unlike Bruni though, my son's eating habits were that of a normal person... he stopped when he was full - like after eating a half a brownie. Bruni shares that even as a little kid, he would "scream for seconds". It makes me wonder: Are you born with the "big gene"? Are you big because you eat a lot? Do you eat a lot because you're big?

I know young kids who are very overweight, who crave food and sweets, and actually cry when they don't get enough food or can't get the food they really want. So, for all my food issues, I'm so happy that this one passed me by. Emotional eating is bad enough, but to have a physiological need that starts young, well, that's just a major bummer!

We Have No Chance

How can we not think about food when "it" is all around us. Just look at these sayings and see how ingrained foodisms are in our lives.

You are what you eat
Eat like there's no tomorrow
She drinks like a fish
Now that's hard to swallow
Hungry like the wolf
Nourishing our souls
Brain food
Food for thought
Thirst for knowledge
Hungry for adventure
Quench your desires

See what I mean? If there were as many sayings to do with sex as there are to do with food, well, uh, then, I would be thinking about other things besides food ... which would actually make my husband very happy. Perhaps my next babble will have a list of sayings that are sex driven. Hello out there -- I may need some help!

Who Knew?

In my freshman year, one of my professors said to the class, "everyone is beautiful". I sat there with my small mind thinking that we must be seeing different people. Over these many years though, I have learned differently. I now search out that type of beauty. I've learned that some people have a special type of beauty that others are blind to, but that are transformative to both that person and the viewer. Click on this link to be inspired, to see a life being changed, to see others transformed, to see the recognition that someone can really be "beautiful" when minutes before, it was hidden. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__Gs02ZmUmE

Quote of the Day: "The most common reason we stumble into the delusion of powerlessness is that we're afraid of what other people would do if we were to act as we wanted" Martha Beck (author)

#62 Is Eating For Pleasure Obsolete?

My cousin, Anna Jane Grossman, wrote a book called OBSOLETE. It's an encyclopedia of once common things that are passing us or have passed us by. This is, of course, a plug for her book; however, there are some very interesting entries. For example, ciao to adult book stores. I'm assuming that their demise is due in part to the Internet and in part to the fact that network and cable television are so OUT there that one doesn't need to hide in a dark "book store" to get their jollies anymore.

Here are a few other entries that may pique your interest: ditto paper, car cigarette lighters, social emailing [my son is quoted], and the one that really caught my interest, EATING FOR PLEASURE. Now, aren't you curious?

The small print under the eating for pleasure entry says, "the practice of not obsessing about food." Some of us foodies may be unsure as to what that means. Either we're eating really well, watching what we eat, counting our calories, preparing good dishes, and shopping at Whole Foods, or we are eating crap and dealing with all the obsessive thoughts that go with doing that. However, Annie [that's what I call her] writes that it gets even more neurotic than what I just shared. She says, "we are either over-analyzing our diets or berating ourselves...", and since the 90's, when the FDA started requiring that food packages have the nutritional values printed on the outside, calorie counting has taken the fun out of eating. She says that a person can't even indulge in, a Hostess cupcake "without first removing their eyeglasses". Well, she's got me down, although for some splurges I just ignore the fine print.

Today, people are so diverse in their diets that going out with a group of friends for lunch or dinner, or having people over, or having kids to your home can be very difficult and mystifying. You'd be remiss if you didn't check to see if your guests have any nut allergies, keep kosher, are vegetarians, don't eat dairy, are off sugar, are vegan, or only eat raw food. Recently, we had a barbeque where one of the families invited eats a gluten-free diet -- this means no wheat products. I had decided to make corn bread in their honor, but when I looked at the ingredients on the mix, gluten was the third ingredient. My choices, it seemed, were to either buy gluten-free corn bread or make it from scratch.

Recently, I made the decision to change the way my kids snack. Because neither one of them have a weight problem or "use food", I've never been overly concerned with their snacking. If they wanted something sweet, they would grab a cookie or two. Recently though, I've noticed that they are doing a lot more grazing on snack foods when they watch TV. Also, I'm concerned with the amount of sugar and hydrogenated oils they are getting in these snack foods... the ones, sad to say, that I'm buying. When I told them what I was thinking and what I wanted to do, surprisingly, there was no argument. Actually, my son went into my daughter's room, brought down the book Eat This Not That For Kids [that I had bought and don't remember doing], and we made a list of the snack foods, cereals, peanut butters, jellies, yogurts, etc. that were on the "Eat List" and that they thought they would like. Hmm, that almost seemed too easy. Now let's see if they'll eat any of these "healthy" foods.

Last night, I was reading a fellow blogger's blog http://www.http//lynnsweigh.blogspot.com/ when I noticed she had written at the top of her post that her blog contained "food porn", and one should open it at their own risk. I read through her post enjoying the recipes and photos. I then wrote her a comment telling her how yummy everything looked, but that I would have given the blog a PG13 and not the XXX rating she had given it. My response was intended as a joke in response to what I thought she was joking about, food porn. She wrote back and explained that one of her readers, in all seriousness, told her that since people have issues with food, and that reading about or seeing food could set them off on a binge, she should add some type of censure to warn her readers. OY VEY!!! And I thought I had problems....

To end on a positive note, cousin Annie tells us that Sara Moulton, of Gourmet Magazine, says that "food should be fun and tasty". For good measure though, I'm going to throw in that food should be fun, tasty and nutritious. Another well-known celebrity, Cookie Monster, agrees. He began preaching to his young audience that "cookies are a sometimes food", but he never said not to enjoy them.

Quote of the Day: "Do what's right, not what's easy" Suze Orman [financial guru]