Reasons My Son’s Not Eating

Some of us are blessed.  Their kids are adventurous.  They will eat all types of foods.  All types of textures.  For some lucky parents, this food can even touch other food. 

Nope.

                     Nope.

We are not blessed in this way.  This is our burden.  Our 8 year old son is a total pain in the ass when it comes to food.  Unless of course, it’s ice cream, then he’s good, but anything else, there are a set of rules that change almost daily.

Therefore, we give you:  THE REASONS OUR SON IS NOT EATING:

1. The pizza has sat out for longer than 5 minutes.

2. The macaroni and cheese is NOT Kraft. Homemade?  Big macaroni noodles?  No go.  Kraft M&C must also not sit on the stove longer than 5 minutes.

3. The noodles are too wide.

4. The noodles are a different color.

5. The noodles are mixed with something.  Anything, even broccoli, which he actually likes.

6. The carrots are mixed with peas.

7. The pizza has bubbles on it.

8. The bread has nuts in it.

9. There’s parsley on it.

10. The grilled cheese has a tiny brown “burn” spot.  (Not really, just browner at that place than he’d like)

11. The jello has fruit in it.

12. It has gravy on it.  Clearly, not my kid.

13. It has any sauce or seasoning on it.

14. It’s breaded with something other than nugget.

15. It touched the ranch.  Which he’s using to dip, but it touched before he’s dipped it.

16. Too much cinnamon on the applesauce.

17.  The carrots have crinkles.

18. It’s leftovers. Of anything. Pizza included.

19. It’s hot dogs. Of any sort.

20. It’s tacos.  Food touching all over the place. And lettuce, don’t forget lettuce. Ick.

21. It’s not the right meatball.

22. The noodles are too wide.

23. The potatoes are mashed.

These are just off the top of my head.  And there are rules on top of that. And if you do find something he likes that is remotely healthy, for the love of God, don’t over serve it.  No more than once every other week.

Now, on the list of Go foods are a few foolproof items, none of which are healthy.

Rolls

PB&J

Ice cream

Candy

Dessert, anything natch.

Every time.

Every time.

And that’s about it.

One might read this and think, “Hell, if that were my kid, I’d make him eat what I give him.”  You, my dear, DO NOT have this kid, because I can guarantee you no parent of a fellow picky eater follows this rule.  We get firm and we choose these food battles fairly often, and sometimes, we do the worst, meanest, most horrible thing a parent can do:  we withhold dessert. For the most part, we desperately try to put something on the table they might just eat a few bites of, but our hopes are dangerously low on the best of days.  We scour the internet, church and family cookbooks, and foolishly click on all the articles about “picky eaters,” but we are always disappointed, because I don’t know anyone whose picky eater will eat “Baked Polenta Fries,” cause mine sure as hell won’t.

Not gonna work bud.

Not gonna work bud.

But we keep on the fighting the good fight.  We pin the hell out of Pinterest.  But, most days, it’s PB&J or nuggets, with the hope that one day, one day soon, they’ll look up and say, “How about Mexican/Italian/Indian food?”

Until then, stay strong picky parents!

Cause he's cute, that's why.

Cause he’s cute, that’s why.

GM Diet Plan

So I found this on Pinterest this week and became intrigued.

 

http://www.gmdietplan.com/

 

Basically, it’s a 7-day “cleanse,” which I am thinking is just another name for “Cranky, hungry and pooping my brains out,” but it’s basically 7 days of fruits, veggies, tanker trucks of water and some lean beef thrown in, so it’s not totally unhealthy or crazy.  I did about 10 minutes of googling opinions on it, and basically I got the feeling it wasn’t something you should do long-term, but it’s a good way to kick start a diet.  Right before the holidays.  I am a freakin genius I know.

 

So just a fair warning, if you see me over the next 7 days, chances are I will not be the happiest person, as I tend to gain emotional satisfaction from food, and fruits and veggies just don’t calm me down quite like a brownie sundae might.  This old school skit from SNL will be pretty much constantly running through my head.

Wish me luck.

Cravings

Fat Guy in a Little Coat….

Just sitting here on a Saturday night, watching my husband play Modern Warfare with his geek virgin friends also gaming on a Saturday night.  I am trying to get him to change his avatar name to RPatz4eva, but he isn’t buying it, so I thought I’d write about my ongoing obsession with food.

Food.  I love food.  Unfortunately, I am surrounded by people who also have the same problem as me, and a husband who has no idea what healthy cooking is, and let’s face it, his way of cooking is delicious and irresistible.  Plus, when he cooks, I am not, and I hate cooking, no matter what my Pinterest page says.  He cooks bacon by the pound and thinks that if he tells me not to eat it, that will somehow stop me from punching him in his junk to get past him to the bacon….or the cupcakes…or ice cream….whatever.  The stuff just can not be in the house.  So that way when the time comes, like now at 10 p.m. at night and I am desperately rummaging through my cabinets in search of crap, I find none, and have to eat a Nutrigrain bar or worse, an apple.  But no, I have approximately 5 lbs. of Halloween candy that I totally pushed my kids to trudge up and down blocks and blocks of soggy wet, cold weather so I could eat it all when they go to bed.  And I don’t just have a piece, no, I eat until I am slightly nauseous.  The day after Halloween, I ate three pieces for breakfast.  Breakfast.  Seriously.

I have this really annoying guy at work, who’s all into working out and eating healthy, telling me on Friday that I should eat Chia seeds (yeah, like the Pet, which by the way, totally sells me on EATING them (sense the sarcasm), which are super healthy and delicious and he feels great all the time and has great energy.  This guy also doesn’t eat the donuts on Tuesdays and “splurges” on the bagels on Friday, and always frowns and gets all judgey when the rest of us are gorging ourselves on the free chocolates a vendor dropped off, or the awesome spinach artichoke dip our co-worker makes.  Grrr.  Insert eye roll here and sarcastic comment about the ability to put the seeds on a donut and I exit the conversation.  Healthy people are annoying.  People who don’t exist to eat annoy me.  Don’t talk to me about being healthy.  I know how to eat, what to eat and how much to be a healthy, energetic, happy, fit woman.  I know this.  I know that when I work out I feel better.  I know when I drink tons of water, I crave less sugary junk.  I know that de-sugaring gets easier after the first week, but I always fall back into it.  I love it.  I love food.  I am the fat kid with cake.  It’s like my crack, except at least you can give up crack and never see it again.  Food you need to live.  I should eat to live right?  No way, I come from a long line of living to eat.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for God’s sake.  How fat is that???  Forget presents, family time, just give me Grandma’s homemade stuffing and some pumpkin pie and I am in heaven.

I want to be like you healthy people.  I don’t want to eat candy like it’s my job.  I don’t want to crave crap food like Chef Boyardee and Swiss Cake Rolls.  I don’t want to love regular Pepsi, which btw, is free at work.  They are accomplices with my husband in the conspiracy to kill me.  (To my credit, I have kicked this habit.  I still love me some pop, but at least I can tolerate Diet with the help of transitioning through Coke Zero.  God bless you sugar substitute, BUT, have I lost weight?  Negative.  Annoying.)  But, I still drink pop, at least 2 a day, and I hate water with a passion.  Yuck, so boring.  And apparently the aspartame in Crystal Light negates the water I am consuming (so says healthy work guy), so that’s not a good compromise.  No, it has to be the boring flavorless water, or nothing.

I don’t want to go into serious depression for the two months that Netty’s is closed to sell Christmas trees, even though I am lactose intolerant and spend most of the 2 a.m. hour cursing my medium swirl soft serve cone.  It’s totally worth the pain, and I will do it again and again.  But then, do I feel working out is worth the same pain?  Not enough to do it more than 3X in a row.   Just ask my sister, who when I told I was running in the mornings, laughed out loud because I had only done it twice so far, and she knew, just knew, it wouldn’t last much longer…and she was right.  I didn’t do it again.

So anyways, here I am fighting the good fight.  Problem is, my cholesterol is still sky-high and I keep gaining weight.  I have to do something soon or my husband will be raising my kids alone, which scares me because I see zip ties as Gracie’s ponytail holders and Will never being able to pursue dance like I totally know he wants.  So, therefore, I have to do SOMETHING.  Any ideas?  Mark has offered to punch me in the face when I open the fridge in a Pavlonian-dog type of training, but I think the outside world would frown on my  black eyes.  And really, if there is anything pumpkin in that fridge, I’ll take the black eye.  I’ve thought of hypnotism, but that hypnotist has be freakishly good at their job for my subconscious to out talk my conscious brain heading for a late night Ben & Jerry’s.

Well, writing this helped curb my current obsession with eating, maybe I should just post an ode to food every night I get these cravings?  …Wait, nevermind.  Just re-read and really want some Ben & Jerry’s.

Death by Chocolate and Brownies and Cool Whip

I am pretty sure my husband’s trying to kill me.  Last March, I went to the doctor to see why I had suddenly gained so much weight and why I couldn’t seem to drop it after giving up cookies for a few days, which by the way, is how my dad has always done it, and wonders why the rest of us fatasses can’t follow suit.  So after giving up all sweets for over a month and only managing to lose a few pounds, I went to the doctor hoping for some sort of thyroid or tapeworm issue that could be fixed with some pills, which would make the weight slide off without exercise and healthy eating.  Needless to say, he ordered bloodwork to establish a “baseline,” since I was so young and healthy, so when things went astray, we’d know what my “normal” was.  Well, I messed that up.  At 32, my cholesterol was 265, which to explain to normal 30 somethings who have no idea what I’m talking about, anything over 200 is bad news.  I basically have the cholesterol of a 50 to 60 year old, who’s lived a Ron Swanson lifestyle of turkey legs wrapped in bacon and fried snickers bars.  I used to wonder what the big deal was about a Ho-Ho and Pepsi for breakfast, so really, I had this coming.   A cholesterol level of 265 at an older age would put me straight on medication, but because I have a few years to tinker with, we were going to try diet and exercise first.  Anyways, that was March.  I haven’t been back for a follow up since, because I keep dropping the ball and playing mind games with myself that tomorrow I will get back on track and show the doctor that I am super dedicated and be one of those smug, I can do it so can you, type people.  But right now, there are slutty brownies that I must try.   To give me an ounce of credit,  I did really really good for about  a month, but only lost like 3 freakin pounds, so I got discouraged and slid a bit every day.  And slutty brownies are really freakin good (see below).

Image

Back to my homicidal husband.   Mark moved back into our lives a little over a month ago, and God bless him, has taken over the cooking (which for me and the kids means something other than PB&J 4 out of 5 nights a week).  Since then, we have had a steady diet of brinner (breakfast for dinner), complete with tons of eggs (made up mostly of cheese) and bacon.  Lots and lots of glorious bacon.  And trips to Gino’s Pizza, and Saturday breakfasts at McDonalds and Sunday brunch at IHOP.  I am pretty sure I am married to Buddy the Elf, except he likes the meat and potatoes and I am putting syrup on my spaghetti  noodles. Image

Hence why I think he’s trying to kill me.  He knows I could keel over at any moment, but yet, he continues to waive these glorious foods under my nose every hour of the day.  So, if do keel over before 35, you know who to blame.  But just stay quiet so the poor guy can quit looking for another miserable job and live off the life insurance for a while.

PS – You know you want the Slutty Brownie recipe now that I mentioned it.  It truly is worth dying for.

Slutty Brownies