Oh where oh where has my little tush gone?

Oh where oh where can it be?

I was looking at some recent photos taken of me and can see that the stress of the past four months has taken its toll.  I am a notorious stress eater.  When the going gets tough, I go to the pantry.  So it comes as no surprise in light of all that has been going on in my personal life, that I have sought comfort in Fritos, McDonalds, Sour Patch Jelly Beans, fried chicken and pizza.

My closet has become a museum of Ann Taylor clothing ranging from size 6 and up. (You will need to waterboard me in order to get me to disclose my current weight and size.)  I like muffins as much as the next person, but I do not like having muffin top. 

All of this leads me to a few realities: 1) the destructive eating habits must come to an end, 2) I need to find a better way to channel my stress and 3) I see that there will be some sort of physical activity routine added to my schedule that will involve pain and excessive sweating.  So here is my plan of attack:

Refined sugar and white flour are now banished!!! My carbohydrate intake will be exclusively limited to fruits, veggies and whole grains.  Fortunately this does not affect my coffee experience because for as long as I've been drinking coffee, I've been using the pink stuff as a sweetener.  (Please spare me the research. I'm aware of the fact that there is no Sweet'n Low plant in nature and therefore the stuff is all chemicals and is not good for me. I'm fine with that.)

As for a better channel for my stress, I will commit to jumping on my computer and writing a blog entry. (Even if it is only to tell the world that I am on the verge of a Frito-detox induced rage.)

And finally there is the physical activity piece.  As much as it may come as a surprise to some of you, I was a 'decent' runner not too long ago.  I ran (and completed) a full 26.2 mile marathon in 2002.  I will never ever feel the need to repeat that insanity again.  (I just finally got the last of my four toenails that I lost during the race to grow back this winter.)  I think my logical next step is to reintroduce running into my daily routine.

Should you pass me along the road while I am out on a jog, here are the things I ask you to consider:

• Do not honk at me.  I will not know if you are showing me a sign of support/encouragement on my attempt at physical fitness or if you are telling me that there is not enough room on the road for your vehicle and my very large behind.
• Should I appear to be in some sort of cardiac distress, please be kind and dial 911.
• Do not assume that I appear to be walking.  My jog and walk are deceptively similar in appearance.
• Do not expect me to be sweet and social when I 'run' past you.  I will not only be in physical pain but I'll also be going through carbohydrate withdrawal and that is a double whammy if I ever heard of one.

So 'Operation Lose the Muffin Top' has been kicked off today.  Let the transformation begin!!

[Caffeine consumed during the making of this blog: 1 Diet Mountain Dew]

High Treason

In the immortal words of Jerry Maguire, coffee "completes me." So it comes as no surprise to find out that I was beyond upset this morning when I discovered that my sacred morning ritual of savoring a cup of hot, caffeinated, heaven has been a sham over the past two weeks.

Before I tell this story, let's get a few things straight. I am not a high volume coffee drinker. Quality, not quantity is my mantra for coffee. I would rather drink 2 great cups (albeit very large ones) of coffee a day instead of 2 pots of mediocre java. The moment that first taste of caffeinated heaven hits my lips each morning is like that very first true love kiss of my youth. I savor each taste until the rendevous is over and we part ways for a few hours. My drug of choice is mild, moderately priced Dunkin' Donuts original blend (whole bean please).

So back in December my mother (also a fellow DD orignal blend drinker) for some reason felt the need to give me a bag of DD decaf coffee to have on hand 'just in case.' I am presuming she was worried that some day I would have a guest over at my house that urgently craved the taste of decaffeinated coffee and I would be unable to meet their needs. The fear that she would be branded a failure for raising a child that was a terrible hostess, must have fueled her decision to purchase said decaf, drive it across state lines, and deliver it to me for safe keeping. Not knowing when this mystery guest would arrive at my home, I shoved the bag of decaf into my freezer and began waiting for the day that someone would make their way to my doorstep.

Flash forward to April of this year. My husband is an amazing partner. Each night after we both get home from work, we divide and conquer to clean up from the day's activities, take care of our 2 year old son, and prepare for the next day's repeat of the whole cycle. His job is to clean out the coffee pot and prepare it for the next morning. Let me also say that my husband thinks he's a funny man and always feels the need to 'work new material'. At times I feel like I am living with Jerry Seinfeld. Typically his material involves some sort of 'zinger' for me.

So it comes as no surprise that two weeks ago he started cracking jokes that he was going to switch me over to decaf. Every night, while I'm frantically cleaning up after our son and preparing his food for the next day at daycare, my husband opens the freezer and pulls out the bag of coffee and starts telling me that he could add decaf to my coffee and I would never know. I of course tell him 'don't mess with my coffee' and leave it at that. But the jokes continue and I of course continue to take them as idle threats. Until this morning.

This morning was my husband's turn to sleep in. I am downstairs with our son. I crack open the freezer to pull out the coffee and for some reason a little voice in my head says 'check and see if the bag of decaf is still sealed shut.' I grab the bag of decaf and immediately panic as it mysteriously feels lighter than I remember. I remove the wire clip and gasp at the fact that the bag opens and it is half EMPTY!!!! The stinker has been slipping me decaf (right in front of my nose) for the past two weeks!!!

Eventually he wakes up from his peaceful slumber, blissfully unaware that I am fuming over the fact that the cat is out of the bag. "Morty, the jig is up!!" He walks into the kitchen and says 'oh great the coffee is ready.' Then I pull out the bag of decaf and confront him with the powerful truth, 'you've been messing with my coffee!' His answer, 'Yeah I know. Every night I've been taking out the bag of decaf coffee along with the regular coffee and right in front of your face I add them to the coffee maker.'

Ugh. When that mystery decaf-loving guest arrives at my home they better come armed with their own bag of coffee because my bag of decaf is now somewhere in a local landfill. Thanks Mom.

[Cups of caffeine consumed during the making of this blog: 1]