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Asian Steamed Shrimp

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1 pound raw shrimp
1/2 cup low sodium soy sauce
1 T minced fresh ginger
1 clove minced garlic
1 T raw sugar
1 t Truvia
2 T orange champagne vinegar
1 T Tonkatsu sauce
cilantro
fresh spinach
fresh pea pods
fresh mushrooms

mix soy, ginger, garlic, sugar, Truvia, vinegar and tonkatsu sauce. Heat in microwave or saucepan until sugar disolves. reserve 1/3 of liquid.

Layer shrimp on bottom of steamer and vegetables on top rack of steamer. Pour liquid over both layers. Steam for 5-8 minutes. Serve over rice and pour extra liquid over mixture. Let the feast begin.

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And The Award Goes To…

Me. I’m proud of me today. I wanted to eat a house, multiple times actually. Had it been covered in chocolate I might have surrendered, but as of 8:30 p.m., my house is still standing as are my neighbors’.

It’s been tough, but I keep circling back to my goals of 2012 that I posted earlier in the week. I do believe that it is worth the effort to take care of my body and soul, and I am convinced that sugar will be my life-long enemy. I’m not always sure about the beauty or the strength things I jotted down, but I think those goals are at least worth working toward.

As I sat in my office today at 1:30 p.m. with absolutely fucking nothing crossed off my to-do list, I tried to convince myself that a sweet treat from down the street would alleviate stress and increase my productivity. Hell, the walk to buy this bit of yummiliciousness would actually be good for me, and if I got something with nuts or dark chocolate, those ingredients have been proven to contain things like omega 3s and flavonoids.

Stop.

I chewed some gum, munched on raw veggies and gave myself permission to go in an hour if I still wanted the sugar that in my world resembles crack. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I still wanted the fix, but I asked myself what I really needed? No stress. Was a brownie or biscotti or cookie going to rid me of stress? Damn. I stuck a fresh piece of gum in my mouth and later snacked on a boiled egg when I knew I was really hungry.

I revisited another a brief moment when I walked through the door this evening. The house was quiet and would be for hours since my guys went skiing. I’ve accomplished some of my best binge eating when I was alone. Woo hoo, let the party in my mouth begin. I passed the calendar on my way to the snack cabinet. I saw the stars lining each day of the New Year; little awards recognized my effort at taking better care of myself. I wanted another star…so, here I sit writing about my feelings instead of eating them.

May I have two stars, please?

Agree for Change

I’ve been wrestling with 2012 goals. I hate to call them resolutions, which are meant to be broken like diets and bad habits.

Instead I choose to think what I want to improve upon. This year I want to focus on the positive and re-write negative self-talk and behavior that have been weighing me down in more ways than one.

For at least six months a copy of The Four Agreements has laid atop the end table next to where I scribble in my journal. I’ve read the book multiple times, even writing about it here, but lately it seems to call me. So, every morning, I pull out the book and read a few pages trying to absorb some of the message: be impeccable with your word; don’t take things personally; don’t make assumptions and always do your best.

Recently, I picked up The Fifth Agreement. Be skeptical, but learn to listen. It’s taking me a while to finish the book because it seems appropriate to savor the words like a hot cup of tea with just the right amount of honey and lemon. What is beginning to crystalize is the need to really shift my paradigm of me. I’m tired of being my biggest critic.

As I thought about this and what I hoped to achieve in 2012, invariably my thoughts meandered to the time I wasted in 2011 with my yo-yo diet mentality. Instead of trying to push the negative thoughts into the shadows, I shone a light brightly, feverishly writing every nasty thought about my weight escapades I could muster. It was quite a list – embarrassing and maddening and disappointing.

Then for every negative thought, I created a positive statement to be rewritten repeatedly until it lodges into my brain. Whether rudimentary or revolutionary, the idea is not mine. The exercise came from The Artist’s Way. I’ll spare you the ranting portion, but here are the resulting positive statements:

I am beautiful inside and out.
I will limit exposure to sugar.
Taking care of my being is worth the effort.
I am strong and will achieve weight loss goals of one pound per week.

The first one really makes me squirm. I even hesitated a moment before I typed it here, but the exercise made me realize how negative I’ve become toward myself, illuminating how I’ve struggled over the last year.

In The Fifth Agreement, I’m discovering how to question the “truth” I’ve told myself, and I think I might be ready to rewrite these destructive messages in change for something more affirmative. I’m sure there will be detours, life is full of them, but acknowledging the negative and making a choice to focus on the positive has to impact the journey. Doesn’t it?

Treats Gone Bad


I detoxed yesterday. Ate a healthy breakfast; packed healthy lunch; munched on healthy snacks.

I left work early because I had gone in early originally planning to take Russell to a doctor’s appointment, but Lyle called to tell me he had it covered. I felt pretty good until I walked into the house and kicked off my shoes in the quiet space. Cue the music.

There on the counter was a Christmas tin of yummilicous.

I can’t even use the excuse that I wasn’t expecting it when I arrived home because it had been taunting me for two days with only minimal collateral damage. But now there were no witnesses, and I would actually be doing everyone a favor by eating the items with nuts. (Lyle and Russell like nuts, but not in their cookies). I told myself I would eat just one. Poof. Gone were the two small brownies, some kind of cracker cookie, a chocolate rolled thingy, a chocolate version of a wedding cake and a macaroon (no nuts, but I really like coconut macaroons).

Thankfully, there wasn’t a huge platter of treats to mistreat.

I had to get out of the house. I remembered an errand. Good thinking except I almost stopped at the bakery for a fondant dipped cookie. Oops, close call, but it was just the thought I needed to acknowledge. Instead of turning on the internal garbage disposal and devouring everything around me, I pushed pause. Wooo Hooo.

As poor of a choice as I made, I didn’t beat myself up (or make it worse), but I also realized I didn’t want to keep mistreating myself, and that was a better treat than the one I had devoured just a few hours earlier.

Stupid or Marvelous

I wonder at times if other people find life as challenging as I seem to make it for myself. Everything operates relatively smooth and peaceful for a while and then KABOOM. The whole thing shatters leaving me to pick up the little shards scattered across what used to be a well-defined path.

Does life need to be difficult? I know it can be hard, really hard, but I’m not talking about life-altering detours that I’ve encountered, just day-to-day stupid shit. I feel too old to be struggling with crap.

I felt particularly stressed this week, under deadlines that seemed too big with unexpected transitions that mocked me as I tried to create a new Plan B on the fly.

Well-established habits like exercise vanished, replaced with taunting brownies. I succumbed convinced that sugar, cocoa and butter would calm and help me regroup. Nope.

Thankfully, my mental mechanic intervened before the sugar took me down a swirling funnel toward a vat of chocolate quicksand. She stopped me when I tried to talk about my “stupid” actions, thoughts, fears. Instead she pointed out strength, resolve, capabilities, and told me I needed to practice positive self-talk.

I know she’s probably right, and suppose it’s worth a shot given the brownie didn’t work worth shit. This week instead of turning to the brownie, I’ve committed to tell myself how marvelous I am while I channel a little Billy Crystal.

I’ll let you know how it goes. What are some of the positive things you tell yourself?

Step Back, Move Forward

I felt myself get a little whacky this morning. It’s not entirely surprising. It happens when exercise declines and sugar rockets.

What did seem new though was the fact I recognized I was standing at the precipice, and I actually wanted to step back. It seemed enough to teeter for just a bit feeling no compunction to throw my arms up and lean into the crumbling edge.

Choice. I tell my son all the time that he has the choice of how he is going to view life, choosing to look for the bad or good in any situation. It’s hard to watch him navigate these teen years, and at times I secretly would love to control his thoughts and behavior. However, when I step back myself and choose to commune with the positive, I also realize how little I truly can control.

Much of my life I tried to control and compartmentalize what I saw as the pieces of my life – weight, body image, family, work, friends, the overall search for perfection. However, I may be on the verge of accepting the interconnectedness of it all. The way I treat my body does affect the way I see myself, which in turn blankets the way I interact with all the people in my life. Seems stupid simple, but it still hasn’t stopped me from pushing against the idea.

I have no control over much of what surrounds me, damn. I can, however, regulate my behavior and reactions and outlook on life. When I’m in this space, it seems absurd I would try to focus energy in any other way.

I saw this when I lost 100 pounds. I learned that the weight was not about the food (unless it’s a pan of brownies sitting on my counter at 2 a.m.). I ate for a lot of reasons other than hunger using the weight to insulate myself from life. It was a sad existence, and I never want to return to that place.

As I teetered this morning, there was a moment that I wanted to wallow in the fact that some of those pounds found their way back, far too many to ignore. It’s time to select a different path because the one I’ve been traveling has been taking me in a big fucking circle. I know the science, an easy equation of in vs. out, and now I feel good that I’m choosing to connect with me.

The Last Supper?

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Okay, so maybe the Last Supper flares with drama, but I have a feeling this may be the last caprese salad of the season. My tomatoes and basil are fading fast. Oh, how I dread to see them go.

If you still have access to these fresh ingredients, don’t miss out.

Tomatoes
Basil
Fresh mozzarella
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper

Slice up all the ingredients and serve on a large plate. For an added zing, place the tomatoes on a bed of spicy greens. Drizzle with vinegar and oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper and guard your plate.

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