Posts Tagged ‘wine’

Oatmeal with syrup

Hubby came home the other night from the gym complaining that he weighs more now than he ever has, and it’s time to do something about it. “Yeah,” I say, “honey, please pass the cheese and olives.”

The next morning, as I’m heading downstairs to get breakfast going, he yells from Baby’s changing table, “No maple syrup in my oatmeal anymore, please!”


Are you kidding?

Now, if he were a candidate for bypass surgery, I might be more supportive. But he’s not. He is just fine. Which makes me think, if he thinks he needs to leave out maple syrup, what the hell should I be leaving out?

When it comes to dieting, you see, I suck. Super suck. I rebel against the very idea… which is probably a problem. When I even think about starting to watch carbs, I purposefully march to the corner bakery and get a chocolate strawberry scone (which was delicious, by the way) with a large latte. Dieting feels oppressive, and I want no one telling me what I can or cannot eat. I honestly thank the gods often for giving me a life free of food allergies.

So, if dieting doesn’t work, I guess the lbs need to be shed at the gym. This is a really good idea because I belong to a pretty swanky gym, complete with steam room, sauna, and massage rooms. Yum! Oh, and child care, which is the only way I can possibly justify my membership.

I go to the gym today, full of angry fat energy and ready to burn, baby, burn! Then I run into a good friend, just as I’m signing up for treadmill #7. “Hey!” we’re so happy to see each other. “How was your weekend. No way! And then what? Well, get this…” And shaaaahhh-ling, the time just slips on by. But wait, I have 15 minutes before my 1 hour of child care expires— off to the steam room!

Whew! That was so worth the $$$ I pay in membership fees. But as for these thighs and ass…hmmm… love them or leave them, I say.

Now, where’s my wine and cheese?


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I’m not one to make New Year’s resolutions. And it’s not because I disapprove of them, or think they are a waste of time. I am simply too lazy. I don’t want to think about all the things that need repair in my life, and then sketch a plan on how to remedy them in order to make myself a better person. I mean, really.

That said, for some reason tonight, I decided to have a spinach salad for dinner, complete with a dressing of a guilt-free balsamic vinegar and olive oil. That’s right. No side of pasta, cheese, sausage, or even yummy crusty French bread. Nope. Just a salad. And as I watched myself eat my salad, I thought to myself, “Now, could this be my typical hubby-is-out-of-town-so-why-cookedness? OR could this be a subconscious attempt to shrink my butt and thighs?” I am pretty hard headed and, butt and thighs be damned, I am going to eat my cheese. But they say the subconscious is pretty strong as well.

And yet, HA-HA! As I write this, I sit down with a glass of Shiraz (maybe a glass and a half restaurant-style) and a plate of Brie with Triscuits (that’s right, if you need me to spell class for you, just let me know). Let the lazy, but determined, butt and thigh riding consciousness of this woman PREVAIL. Amen.

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