a sea shanty

I know what you do with drunken sailor (shave his belly with a rusty razor) but what do you do with a fat sailor?

Prepare yourselves for a nautical post.

I feel like I am stuck in the doldrums.  I hate the word doldrums.  I remember the first time I heard it and wondering to myself, "What is the meaning of that terribly ugly sounding word?"

Well, in case you were wondering, the doldrums were originally areas of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans which are affected by a low pressure zone near the equator.  The range of low pressure causes the prevailing wind to be calm.  Exceptionally calm winds seems like it would very pleasant for a sailor but they were not.  Sail powered ships could get stuck in the doldrums for days, weeks, or even months at a time.  Mostly this was a problem during the eighteenth century before modern communication and when westward exploration was at an all time high.

Okay, sorry.  History lesson over.

Seriously though.  Could you imagine being stuck on a rickety wooden ship full of stinky sailors and limited provisions for weeks?!?

Anyway, the actual doldrums aren't really a problem anymore for sailors.  At least I don't think they are.  But figuratively they can stop me in my tracks sometimes.

I don't know how to explain the past week.  It's like some sort of weird misty fog of tiredness has settled over me like a big blanket of exhaustion.  I know why.  I've stopped eating carbs again and my mind and body are staging an all out revolt.

The past week I have just felt lazy and unmotivated at the same time.  I wake up in the morning and want to do nothing but sit on the couch with Katelyn and watch Thomas and Friends, Dinosaur Train, Super Why, and those krazy Kratt brothers talk about animals.  Don't get me wrong.  I have actually been thoroughly enjoying myself.  On weekday mornings, PBS has a pretty exciting lineup.  I'm loving the quiet time Katelyn and I have spent relaxing on the couch with a blanket spread over our legs sharing a bowl of cottage cheese.  Sometimes we discuss the fascinating plot lines of the progrms we are watching and everyday we agree that we are both annoyed by that Sid the Science Kid.  It's okay because he's pretend, right?

Anyway, the problem is that I feel guilty about all the laziness.  I'm not trying to teach Kate that it's okay to spend the hours of ten to noon sitting on the couch eating cottage cheese out of the container.  I mean, at least not every day, I guess.

Also, I feel badly that I have been enjoying the laziness.  I get to spend my days shut into my apartment dressed in an oversized nightgown from Walmart all while in the company of a delightfully entertaining toddler who wants nothing more than to sit on the floor with me while we play with her toys and she intermittently gets up to give me a hug.  I just feel guilty for not getting out more and accomplishing things, I guess.

I mean, we have been getting out every day but I don't think it counts if it's only to beg my mom to pick us up and let me follow her around for the afternoon.

It's just that this diet is draining me of my will to move.  I feel like feet have been firmly planted in a vat of molasses and, because I have been deprived of all of the foods that are good and benevolent, I am just too tired to fight the exhaustion.

I've been trying to remind myself that this has been, as my mom called it today, one of those "go with the flow" weeks of motherhood.  I can already feel myself breaking free.  Today, we ventured out to Walmart where I circled the same two aisles about fifteen times forgetting what I was trying to find.  Don't worry though.  I eventually found it.  It was a Genie Bra because nothing says glamor like a bra that comes out of a box.

Seriously though, it is the most comfort I think I have ever felt in my life and at night, I change into those giant cotton nightgowns so that's saying a lot.

Anyway, I've already decided that tomorrow will be great.  Tomorrow I am going to wake up and accomplish all of those tasks that have been patiently awaiting my attention for the last week.  I am taking Kate to play group at the church.  I'm deep cleaning my apartment.  I might even think of cleaning the car.  (Just kidding.  No I won't.)  I will finally return those books to the library.

So I bid farewell to the doldrums because this sailor is ready to move.  I'm gathering all the energy I can muster so I can get out there and start moving again.  And if all else fails, I'll just forget about this diet thing and buy myself a big piece of Target cake (fuel).

Just kidding.

on top of spaghetti...

...squash, that is.

Okay so this is less of a recipe and more of a squash awareness post.  And maybe you are rolling your eyes thinking, "We've heard of squash before."  But up until a few years ago when my mom made spaghetti squash, whenever I heard the word squash, I only thought of zuchini.

Spaghetti squash is one of my very favorite vegetables.  It is a veggie masquerading as a carbohydrate.  And we all know how I feel about carbs.  Not only is is delicious but it is cheap and easy to make.  If I could marry a vegetable it would probably be spaghetti squash.

All you need to do to prepare this versatile vegetable is cut it in half. (I usually cut mine lengthwise but I asked Dave to do this and he thought I meant "hamburger style."  Does anyone else remember that from elementary school?)

 
Place the halves cut side down in a baking dish and roast at 375 degrees until a knife cuts through the squash easily.  Depending on the size of the squash, this takes around 45 minutes or so.

My favorite way to eat spaghetti squash is with a little butter and salt and pepper.  If you want to be really healthy, use olive oil instead of butter and it you want to enjoy a carb free Italian dinner, pour over some marinara sauce and pretend that you are eating actual spaghetti.

That gives me a meal idea for later this week: spaghetti squash spaghetti and meatballs. :)

all you need is cake, i mean love

This is how I would feel right now if someone gave me a cake.

I have the answer to every riddle, the solution to all issues, the antidote for any poison, and the plan for world peace.

It is eat more cake.

Every thing would be better if we just all ate more cake.

Let them eat cake.

Cake...............................

Not really of course.  But this is what I lamented to Dave last night.  I started my carbohydrate detox on Saturday and it was Day Four.  It wasn't that I missed cake that badly.  (Although I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as I drove past Gigi's Cupcakes on Saturday.)

The withdrawal symptoms came in the form of virulent anxiety that grabbed me by the throat the moment I woke up that morning.  I couldn't even tell you what I was worried about.  It's nearly impossible to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it.  It is a purely physical response.  It's almost like I've forgotten what I was worrying about so I try not to remember but the physical side effects remain.  I feel tired and jumpy with a sparky rumbling in the pit of my stomach that sends nervous tentacles into my back and thighs.  It's as if somehow all my nerve endings were open and exposed and I couldn't even tell you why.

I spent the day trying not to remember why I was anxious.  Do you know how difficult it is to keep something forgotten?  It's a funny trick of nature how we can struggle for a wanted memory but the bad ones creep back up to the front of our minds.

Eventually, I lose my battle of forgetfulness and my brain just assigns something to the emotion that is churning.  Sometimes I imagine some little administrator like Radar from MASH desperately searching the filing cabinets of my mind trying to find something, anything to match up with the signals my body is sending in.

It's exhausting.  The worry, the sick feelings, the trying hard to not remember, and finally the attached anxiety my brain has eventually chosen to pull up.  By the end of the day, I lay on the couch with Dave while Katelyn babbled in her highchair eating mangoes.

"I'm so anxious and cake would make it better.  Just one big cake.  I could eat is so fast and the fear would just go away and I would be so happy."

Dave carefully and nervously explained that I would not be happy on Saturday when I had to weigh myself and share the stats.  I'm sure he secretly dreads these Catch-22 situations I put him in all the time.  One the one hand, if he runs over to Target and buys me that cake, he is not being supportive of my weight loss goals.  He would be an enabler.  One the other, if he tries to help me stick to my diet, he is helpless with my anxieties and worse, admitting that I should not be eating cake because I am overweight.  It would be a sin of omission.  I could see the wheels of his mind turning quickly as he tried to tip toe around the minefield I had just set up for him.

I knew he was right though so I got up and fixed a carb free dinner.  I have faith in my plan.  I really do.  In time, I will find other more productive coping mechanisms.  I can find endorphins hiding under the treadmills of the gym if I look carefully.  In a week, I will feel settled and healthier and all will be well again.  I will wonder why I was complaining so much.

But for now somebody please, please just get me some cake.

here's the plan dave

Katelyn helping her daddy work from his desk where he calls to ask what the plans are.

Every afternoon, Dave calls me from work after lunch.  The conversations are always strikingly similar.  We both at some point say, "How's it going?"  He tells me he is tired and we stayed up way too late last night watching reruns of Cheers on Netflix.  I tell him some funny Katelyn story from that morning.  And then, every day, without fail he will ask me, "So, what are the plans for tonight."

And every day the plans are the same.  For about the first billion times he asked, I actually went through explaining our nightly routine to him.  "Well, you'll come home and then we'll eat some dinner.  After that I'll give Kate a bath while you do the dishes and then she can play for a few minutes before it's time for bed."  On Fridays, my parents are usually kind enough to watch Kate and we go out on a date and on Saturdays we watch SNL instead of Cheers but for the most part our life is boring and predictable and I love it.

Eventually, he asked what the plans were on the wrong day.  I don't know if an angry wind had breezed past my door, I had crawled out of bed on the wrong side, or the stars were just not lined up right but I just snapped.

"SERIOUSLY?!?  YOU KNOW WHAT THE PLANS ARE!!!  THEY ARE THE SAME EVERY NIGHT!  I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU!!!!!"

I'm not proud of that moment.  I probably should have just explained the plans again instead of eating his face for lunch.  I was just spent that day.  Maybe I stepped on a lego or something.  It is a running joke between us now.  He still calls every afternoon and asks what the plans are and the laughs quietly and I can visualize his impish little grin that he passed on to his daughter.

So, just for you Dave, here is the plan.

I have already written about my bona fide carb addiction so I am going on a self imposed carbohydrate detoxification that will hopefully teach me to have a healthy relationship with whole grains and the occasional birthday cake.  It's my own modified version of the South Beach Diet.  My plan will take place in three phases.

In phase one, I am steering clear of all carbs.  Their siren song of sweet serotonin goodness is just too alluring.  I'm focusing my diet on lean proteins, low fat dairy, and vegetables of all varieties.

I just have to get this poison out of my system.

After I lose the first twenty five pounds, I'm introducing fruit in phase two.  I've been told that an apple will taste like a candy bar but I'm skeptical.  Candy is really good you guys.  One caveat: I can only eat one serving of each fruit a day.  I'm not going to go crazy and eat fifteen bananas in one sitting.  And full disclosure - I would.

Another twenty five pounds, phase three will begin, and I will slowly and carefully bring back healthy whole grains.  Hopefully by this time, the addictive effects of processed and refined carbohydrates will have worn off and I can eat like a normal person.

I have a feeling it's going to be a long haul folks.