A journey in words...

Welcome to my journey in words! A story about health, exercise, weight loss, food addiction, humor, size discrimination, sarcasm, social commentary and all the rest that’s rattling around inside my head...

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Monday, August 9, 2010

Confronting Family Dinner

I’m not alone in my love of food and companionship with which to consume it, I come by that honestly from my family; who like eating and talking together so much we could qualify as Greek or Italian.

Being related to so many people who genuinely like one another’s company AND are good cooks to boot is a mixed blessing and curse. One of the ways we show love to one another is to feed – I do this to Ted all the time. You’re not feeling well? I’ll make you some nachos, or a fried egg, or a sandwich. Food is our balm, our crutch and our comfort.

We don’t however have to be feeling bad to overeat – we do it all the time just because we like it.

Saturday night I got together with them for a cookout (we don’t really need an occasion to do this, we just enjoy it). We were having grilled chicken, burger and sausage sandwiches, sautéed peppers and onions, corn on the cob, watermelon, macaroni and cheese and one lobster brought home by my sister from Maine on her recent vacation. With drawn butter, of course. Oh and don’t forget the pineapple upside down cake and ice cream for desert.

This is not an easy scenario to face. When you don’t eat hearty, someone tends to assume you’re either ill or unhappy in some way – and it’s not that they’re not supportive of weight loss efforts, we all just suffer from a perpetual sort of ‘tomorrow’ syndrome.

Today we’re together and enjoying one another lets just eat and be happy, tomorrow we will loose weight.

Unfortunately for me, tomorrow never seems to get here – or hasn’t so far in 35 years.

So I selected a small chicken breast sans roll and put pepper and onion on top, a heaping pile of salad with light dressing, corn on the cob and watermelon for dessert. When my poor brother tried to serve me a slice of cake later on in the evening he got both me and Ted yelling at him “no… no! NO!!!”

Other than my dad giving me a little nod of support and acknowledgement I don’t think anyone really noticed my cutbacks. I mean honestly, I ate a lot of food I was just selective about what I chose. It went fine – no one asked me if I was sick or hurt and I managed not to be too cranky about missing pineapple cake.

Now all I have to do is sustain this eating style for the next sixty or seventy years…

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