Pina coladas, daiquiris and bootylicious-ness…

Vacations are wonderful. It’s that time of the year when you can sleep as much as you want, swim as much as you are able and eat as much as you desire. Oh, yeah, and drink as much as possible.  

Yes, Montego Bay was great and the rum was even better. Rum is not bad, per se. One jigger (seriously) of rum has only 97 calories. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a shot of rum without “extras.” It’s those extras that hurt my waistline.

Let’s start with a vacation favorite—the daiquiri. Did you know that a strawberry, pineapple or Mandarin daiquiri contains 112 calories or more per cocktail? Too bad I would have all three—in one day. When not sipping daiquiris, I would gulp a pina colada or two or four. Those icy concoctions have more than 500 calories per six ounce. What’s more, a six-ounce hurricane contains 250 calories. If you think a mojito would have been better, then you would be so wrong. Each mojito added 200 calories to my booty, which is not looking so bootylicious.

Good thing my Jamaican vacation is over, ‘cause I’m not ready for this jelly.  

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Is strong the new skinny?

Have you seen the latest Old Navy commercial in which Boys II Men serenade a group of girls wearing white jeans? I would love to be that skinny.

What? Wait. Shouldn’t I want those jeans? Damnit, I’ve been brainwashed, again.  At least those jerks from Abercrombie & Fitch are honest about only wanting young anorexic looking girls to wear its brand.

It’s not hard to wonder why women starve themselves to be skinny. Sophieologie (visit her site) suggests women should aim to be skinny strong. I like the strong part of that.

A strong woman does not starve herself. No, she tries to eat well—most days. If she falls short and binges on, say, Doritos; she forgives herself. And, she doesn’t restrict her calories to make up for the binge. No, she cooks a healthy meal the next day and takes a five-mile walk.

Ladies, let’s stop striving to be skinny and instead focus on being strong, i.e. healthy. A few weeks ago, I completed the 10-Day Ab challenge. My new challenge is to strength train three days a week. My goal is to be strong, plus have a waistline and biceps that would make Michelle Obama envious.

 

Hanging in Elvis’ land with cheese covered fingers

My brother, Jerry, and his wife, Tina, decided to celebrate 20 years of marriage with a trip to Montego Bay. The adorable couple will renew their vows in front of more than 30 friends and family members this weekend.  Yeah, just go ahead and say “awww.”

Their son, Jeremy, and I will be flying to Jamaica in a few days. We couldn’t go immediately because school hasn’t dismissed for the summer. So, like any good auntie, I’m hanging in Memphis with the kid until the last day of school. This is good and bad. It’s good because Jeremy is a great kid. It’s bad because this kid can eat!

Yesterday we ate pizza. Today it was Wendy’s. And, yes, I joined him at both fat-laden meals. I know I’m on vacation, but does that mean I should eat like a 15-year-old boy. Jeremy can get away with stuffing his stomach with junk food because he is 15! For goodness sakes, I ate Doritos for lunch! Yes, you read right.

So, day one of my vacation was a bust. Tomorrow will be better; I went out and purchased healthy foods that won’t leave my fingers covered in orange goo.

 

Happy belated Mother’s Day…

My mom, Earlean, is not the flowers and candy type. For Mother’s Day she wanted new tires for her SUV. As the mother of six (four boys and two girls), mom tends to get what she wants. It’s only fair.

She also requested chicken fried rice and ice cream for her day. So not kidding. I was happy to buy mom’s favorites. Mother’s Day, like any holiday, is a perfect excuse for me to overindulge.  Besides, a few days of junk food wouldn’t hurt me, right?

WRONG! You see, two days of sugary treats and over processed carbs quickly became four days. Again, so not kidding. 

A month or so ago, a nutritionist said I should go cold-turkey on sweets and processed foods. I ignored her. As a hypoglycemic, my body constantly craves foods for energy. Foods high in sugar are energy. The problem is my body burns these foods quickly, so I have to consume more food—soon. If I don’t, I crash. I guess I shouldn’t have ignored her.  

So the question isn’t if I should go cold-turkey, but how to do it and stay somewhat sane. Then again, sanity is overrated, while good health isn’t, right?

Stress. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

I’m still trying to incorporate “HALT” in my vocab. The acronym stands for hungry, angry, lonely or tired—the four most common triggers for emotional eating. Today I’d like to add “stress” to the list.

SHALT? Nope, that’s not a great acronym. HALTS is a bit better, but I digress.

According to WebMD, stress is a normal part of life. Stress becomes a problem when a person, say me, can’t relax between challenges. What’s more, 75 to 90 percent of all doctor’s office visits are for stress-related ailments. Huh? So, does this mean stress caused me to gain weight? Don’t laugh. I think I’m on to something here.  

Last Tuesday I admitted to craving ice cream after 5 p.m. I should have admitted to eating ice cream at the end of most work days. Work has been, well, painful lately. I’m not dealing well and haven’t been for a long time. I can’t seem to de-stress after work without junk food and it’s showing in my blood pressure numbers.

Rebecca suggested I take up knitting. This led to an inane conversation on whether knitting is the same as crocheting. Is it?

Anyhoo, I wonder where I stashed my hooks and yarn?

Waiting patiently for bad service and bad news…

It is estimated that the average human spends 45 minutes a day waiting. So here I sit—45 minutes later— waiting for my 10 a.m. doctor’s appointment.

It doesn’t take blood work and a gross urine sample to tell me how I’m doing. Nope, I don’t need some jerk wearing a white coat to tell me that I’m not eating healthy. Since I’m being honest, I’ll just be brutally honest. I’m overweight, and yes, it still hurts to admit it. No, I don’t need Mister-I’ll-see-you-when-I-see-you to tell me bad news, yet, here I continue to sit in the appropriately named waiting room.

Just as I’m getting angry for not having enough up-to-date magazines to steal, an overly friendly nurse motions me towards another room. I nervously weigh in.

I’m stuffing old magazines into my purse when the doctor comes in—frowning. What’s his freaking problem? I was here on time. It seems I’ve lost 1.2 pounds since starting this blog, but I still weigh three pounds more than I did six months ago.

What the French? Did I just wait nearly an hour to hear that? I definitely should have taken more magazines.

 

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