Waste (or waist) management.

Greetings! I’ve been writing on my WW Connect page more than I’ve been writing here. For whatever reason, I have waffled a bit about sharing my writing journey.

I’m going to go with the reasoning of adjustment. I haven’t fully found my way in retirement, covid, and road trips.

But I’ve found my weigh. It’s up some more. And I don’t feel very good. Or well. I know from experience, that it’s not so much about the number as it is how I am feeling.

I published my book, The I’m Possible Journey: Learning to Live with Sugar Addiction, because I wanted to remember where I had been and how I had gotten to a better place by managing my sugar addiction. A huge part of that management process was writing.

And so I am back here. I don’t want to waste that experience. And I want to feel better. Right now, it feels right to write. I can’t afford to consider it a waste of time. It’s part of my waist (and mind) management.

I continue to avoid sugar and artificial sweeteners. I do use fruit, but not dried fruit, for sweetness. When I feel like something is eroding my impulse controls and sending me into compulsive eating behaviors, I work to figure out what it is so I can eliminate it. It’s a waste of me if I don’t.

Dates, fresh or dried, are problematic. I’m not sure why nuts are in that category, but I have great trouble not eating all of them if I start–even if I don’t really enjoy the taste. I crunch the numbers and they add up fast. As in: I think it’s better to abstain if there aren’t established controls.

Nuts. That’s not where I was thinking this post was going.  I was really thinking about a quarter cup of cottage cheese that was left in the container after supper last night.

I have been making waffles for breakfast while we’ve been on a road trip with extended stops in Cheyenne and Lusk, Wyoming.

My go to waffle recipe on the road is a packet of plain instant oatmeal, an egg, half of a ripe banana or squeeze pouch of applesauce, and a half teaspoon of baking powder.  I either use my own waffle maker or the one in the hotel breakfast area.

But back to the ranch where I am right now. Yesterday I ran out of plain instant oatmeal packets. I knew there were recipes for cottage cheese pancakes, but they require some kind of flour. I also knew there was a recipe for flourless peanut butter cookies. I had a banana, some no sugar added skippy peanut butter, eggs, and baking powder. I didn’t waffle at all: I was going to experiment for my next breakfast.

After writing about abstaining from nuts, it might seem a bit nuts to use peanut butter. But I think peanuts are actually legumes. And, with the exception of Trader Joe’s all natural salted chunky peanut butter, I’m not likely to binge on it. The peanut butter isn’t flour, and it feels less dangerous to my sense of control.

I used a ripe banana, two eggs, 1/2 cup no sugar added Skippy peanut butter, 1/4 c cottage cheese, and 1 tsp baking powder. It made three waffles and I ate one.

It looked good. It smelled good. It tasted good. It was filling and satisfying.

Right now, I win. And if you enjoyed this post, you win, too!

Watermelon Reduced to Tiers

My 60th birthday was last week. My husband and I were away for the day. A friend was working at our house while we were gone. When we got home, supper was ready and there was a watermelon birthday cake with candles. The whole thing was sweet. And I was touched.

I posted a picture of the birthday cake my friend made for me.

One candle per decade.

Another friend sent me a picture of another cake. She thought I might like to have it for next year.

Screenshot from Facebook post.

But instead of waiting for next year, I noted the tiers and moved some gears to experiment right away. This is how it turned out.

It reminds me of a wedding cake. The kind you do not have to bake. It’s gluten free, dairy free, and no sugar added. Another friend noted that it’s also soy free. And nut free. (Although it could be said I went a little nuts with the decorations.)

I worked on this project after supper tonight. No snacking. I don’t eat after supper. It’s a bright line in my sugar addiction management.

The bright line is a given with no decision making or will power involved. (For example: Because I don’t smoke, I don’t have to make a decision to not smoke. I just don’t smoke.) Some of my bright lines got a little muddled over the last couple of years.

But recently I feel like I have made a huge step back to bright lines. I’m revisiting the original guidelines I found in Potatoes not Prozac by K DesMaisons PhD. It’s what helped me lose close to a hundred pounds ten years ago when I greatly reduced my sugar intake and had a goal of feeling better.

I have proved, many times, that dieting doesn’t work for me. And I have proven it again. My weight has climbed and I haven’t been feeling great. So I have changed the dim and dead bulbs in my bright lines. I can see my way clearer and I like it.

I continue on my I’m Possible journey. I continue to learn to live with sugar addiction. Fine tuning and noticing what works best. Thankful again that I know, for me, life is sweeter without sugar and processed carbs.

Next month, I will be at a wedding with traditional cake and punch and all the rest of it. I know there will be good options that are safe for me to eat. I will have my bright lines. And I will be thankful.

Thanks for reading this. Please comment and let me know your thoughts. Best wishes.

Stress Mess Clean Up.

I didn’t eat on Saturday
The scale showed: down three pounds.
I ate three meals on Sunday and took a walk arounds.

Today, the scale showed down some more
I’ll take that as a win
In taking back the way I feel
At least, a strong begin.

Stressful eating is a drag
In way more ways than one.
The numbness lasts just until
The bag of chips is done.

Or maybe it was “healthy” food
In just unhealthy measures
Addiction rages stealthily
And tries to rob all treasures.

The treasure of my peace of mind,
The treasure of an act of kind
The treasure of some self control
The treasure of a peaceful soul.
The treasure of just feeling whole.

Today I”ve had a cup o joe,
Vitamins, and water.
So.
I’ll break the fast with lunch and then
I’ll wait until supper to eat again.

I’ve mowed the lawn
And written this poem
If you want to read more
Go look up my “tome”

The I’m Possible Journey:  Learning to Live with Sugar Addiction by Maureen Aliprandi

I write as part of my sugar addiction management process.

It works for me when I do it (not diet).

Maternal Mental Health

https://event.gives/mugs4moms/items/262133

This link is to an auction that benefits new mothers. I’m an old mother, but I remember the challenges of postpartum.

Check it out. The mug is made by my daughter. Her pottery is Mesawademudworks. She’s a young mother of a two year old and a one year old.

She makes beautiful pottery. She’s on Instagram and Facebook. Search for Mesawademudworks.

Thanks.

Maternal Mental Health

https://event.gives/mugs4moms/items/262133

This link is to an auction that benefits new mothers. I’m an old mother, but I remember the challenges of posrpartum.

Check it out. The mug is made by my daughter. Her pottery is Mesawademudworks. She’s a young mother of a two year old and a one year old.

She makes beautiful pottery. She’s on Instagram and Facebook. Search for Mesawademudworks.

Thanks.

Thoughts from the Journey

I’ve been on my I’m Possible Journey for a little over a decade now. I’ve gone from obese to slim and back to slightly overweight.

Currently, and not so shocking under the circumstances, I’m struggling with getting to where I want to be: feeling healthy and fit.

The circumstances are not extremely important, but what I do with them are. I was talking with one of my daughters earlier this week and made a comment about u-turns that turned into a thought about You Turns. Eureka! That’s what I need to do to turn around. A You Turn. Or, maybe it’s a Me Turn.

My husband and I have driven thousands of miles since he retired at the end of 2017. Most of the time, we’ve gotten to where we’ve wanted to be without having to do u-turns. The first time we didn’t take a u-turn but relied on the GPS to re-route us, we traveled miles out of our way on gravel roads through wild territory that, if we’d had a problem, we might not have gotten out alive. (That sounds dramatic.) We did manage to get to where we wanted to go, but it involved crossing a stream on a cement slab that wasn’t quite lined up with the banks and the road.

The second example of needing to do a u-turn was as we were pulling a camper across the country during the pandemic. We had a campground site booked, but the input into the GPS wasn’t quite right. When we were heading up a steep gravel road in an apple orchard onto an Indian Reservation not far from the Canadian border in Central Washington, we knew we had to do a u-turn. Fortunately, we were able to do it at a T intersection of another gravel road. We got to see apple country along the Columbia River, but we also got to our campground after dark.

So. U-Turns. They involve putting on the brakes and changing direction. They can be a service of AAA (Awareness of a problem, Acceptence that the current situation is how it is, and Adapting to make the needed changes for a better outcome). I like to think of that AAA as help for planning the journey and also as emergency assistance in case of a blowout.

A big part of making a you-turn is slowing down. Putting on the brakes can also be seen as putting on the breaks. Breaking routines or habits that frustrate the purpose of the journey.

I’m thinking about momentum. As in Mom Meant, Um. Habits or routines that sabotage progress. Mom meant (to do something) UM. (Under motivated?) My next thought about UM is Uber Motivated. But there has to be something to lift (or lyft) the level of motivation to overcome inertia. Inertia. That sound like In ‘er: sha (sigh?).

Oh my.

I started writing this post, but didn’t finish it. I didn’t make the you turn. And I guess I lost momentum.

Somewhere in the US.

But here it is. A little food for thought. With no added sugar or calories.

Stand Up Apples and Mug Shots.

I was amused by the new dessert I made today. Stand Up Apples. They are quartered and baked apples that are standing up in a casserole dish. No joke. Just apples, cinnamon, and some heat. How do you like them apples? I suppose if no one likes them, they’ll be Stood Up Apples.

I haven’t been writing much. And it shows. In my face and hips and aches and pains. I still don’t eat added sugar, but eating between meals has added a level of discomfort.

It should be easy to just say no, but it feels like it isn’t easy. And then there are the times that I don’t seem to want to say no. Or, I want to say no, but there I am shoving food in my mouth. That feels like addiction.

I originally started writing to distract myself from eating between meals. If I could write, I would be all right. And sometimes that happened morning, noon, and night.

I think the eat in crEATive satisfied me more than food. Or, at least, it satisfied me, Maur-een.

And now, onto mug shots. Sometimes addiction problems lead to mug shots. As in arrest documentation. But these mug shots don’t  have anything to do with that.

The mug shots I have posted are of a mug I received in the mail today. It’s a mug I ordered from #mesawademudworks in Wyoming. The potter is my daughter. She throws pots when her kids aren’t resisting a rest.

Back to Stand Up. I wonder how many jokes have been made about a young mother who throws pots when her babies are napping.

When I tell people my daughter throws pots and fires them, I wonder if they’ll think she’s on an extreme cooking reality show. Not really. I’m just amused by the thought. 

But back to the mug. It’s a beautiful mug. It’s nice to hold. It’s nice to drink from. And it’s nice that it doesn’t seem to drip down the front while I am drinking.

Last time I checked, there weren’t any mugs for sale on her Etsy store. But I think there will be more. Soon.

You can go to her instagram site to see what she’s made and click on the link to her store. https://instagram.com/mesawade.mudworks?utm_medium=copy_link

Talking Turkey.

I found this piece in my drafts folder. It’s not quite shooting the breeze. But it’s what I have on the menu today. I’m roasting turkey with ease.

The ease is poetic license.

I have a frozen solid turkey breast and I am attempting to cold water thaw it enough to take the plastic gravy packet out of the cavity. I think I still have enough time to roast it for dinner this evening. The real reason for having this turkey is for me to make soup tomorrow.

In the meantime, here’s a poem I wrote a few years ago. To the beat of a drumstck.

Cooking a turkey from frozen:

I’ve done it a half dozen times

But never aspired,

Just wasn’t inspired,

To document how in rhymes.

It started with a single thought:

What should I fix for dinner?

I went for a dive in my freezer

And the turkey came up as a winner.

A frozen solid turkey

With hope for a meal and then soup

Simply no time to thaw and dine–

Cook it frozen! I’ve jumped through that hoop!

A quick Google search yields instructions

(I check with them first, every time)

Slip off the plastic,

no juices go spastic

It’s safer in some folks’ opine.

The turkey roasts at three twenty five

For two hours and just a bit more

The giblets come out and the bird goes back in

Be careful to, quick, shut the door.

The total time to cook frozen turkeys

Increases by fifty percent

Double check doneness with temperature probe

Wait for One Sixty-five–time well spent!

I published this piece and then realized the spaces had disappeared. Yes, the poem got spaced out.

Anyway, the turkey was tasty and I used my instant pot to make bone broth after supper. I made turkey soup the next day and it was delicious.

New Horizons

It’s easy to think about horizons in the midwest. We just got back from a roadtrip that involved a lot of driving in the great plains.

But, today, at home in the northeast, I am thinking about “her eyes on”. As in: what is my focus?

I like to think of the apostrophe as “a pause trophy” in my I’m Possible Journey. Taking a moment to consider the prize (trophy) helps turn the impossible to I’m Possible.

So, I think about horizons and “her eye’s on” the prize. My prize in learning to live with sugar addiction was, and continues to be, to feel good. That prize helps me feel thankful to know how, when, and what I need to eat for that to happen. Thankfulness is a wonderful thing.

I used to feel like sweets and desserts were a prize. “Eat your veggies and then you can have dessert!” That’s not necessarily a bad concept. But for me, it wasn’t a great thing. The prize of sugar was actually the pry bar of a drug digging in at a wedge to take control of my impulses. Yes. Sugar pries my self control away from me and just wants more. That’s called addiction, I think.

Yes. A wedge of pie against the sky. “Her eyes on” pie. A do or die. Control or not a will to try. Sigh.

Actually, it’s not as bad as that. I have learned to adapt my palate to eat way more than meat and salad. I’m thankful to avoid sugar and processed carbohydrates that, to my body and brain, are just like sugar. Keeping those things out of my system helps me keep my eyes on the prize of good health. Physical and emotional.

So perhaps the lesson for me is to be full of thanks instead of sugar! Her eyes on the prize of healthy and well.

Her eye’s on: Horizon

Stressed:dessertS

The solution to stressed is not desserts. it’s a backwards approach at best. Unless it is simply to back away without caving to the test.

Turning to food like a numbing drug is not the answer, I know. Give me a run or a paper and pun. ‘Tis a vent so I don’t have to blow.

That imag’ry conjures the thought of a whale–the size I approached e’re I’m Possible tale.

I’ve used AAA to change my attire. From Michelin padded to thin as a wire*. With the Weight Watchers tools and some bright line rules. Awareness, Acceptance, Adapting. No fools.

Stress is a matter of fact part of life. It can’t be knocked out with a spoon fork or knife. Just dealt with: good choices for heart healthy life..

* poetic license. I’m not as thin as a wire, but I wear size small!

I wrote this post with a Weight Watchers prompt. It could seem like it’s all about prose. If you read with a beat, you might find it neat: an amateur poem’s how it goes.

I wrote this post nearly five years ago while I was traveling to Wyoming to visit my daughter and son-in-law at their new home.

I don’t remember if I published a form of it, but I found it in my WordPress drafts this week and I liked reading it. Maybe you will, too!

Currently, my husband and I are driving through Pennsylvania on our way home from Wyoming. We are hoping to get there before the next winter storm catches up to us.

Just trying to avoid being over stressed.