Flitter and flutter

I got back with the Flylady program on Tuesday, and I'm feeling much better, and have gotten a lot accomplished, too. I basically spring-cleaned the living room -- vacuuming under and behind furniture, washing windows, washing and re-hanging curtains. Plus I just submitted an article ahead of deadline, leaving me time later today and tomorrow to meet the next deadline.

The cooking indulgences continue: yesterday I revisited an old favorite recipe for dinner, and also made yummy cherry-berry jam. Easy, both of them, and delish!

Speaking of food, I've decided to take the Flylady/baby steps approach to my weight issues. Since I went cuckoo on Weight Watchers last fall, I've fallen off the wagon in a big way -- gaining back the 10 or so pounds I lost, plus five more. All told, I'd like to lose 20, but would probably settle for 15.

So my new mantra is: "one pound at a time." Translating, roughly, to "one pound a week." I think I can do that without feeling deprived or like too much of a martyr. Because, as I've already written in this space, I love to eat. Exercising is dicey these days, schedule-wise, but if I can just take off a pound a week until after the kids are back in school and my schedule (presumably) eases up a bit, I'll only have 15 pounds to deal with in the fall instead of 20.

And one final note in this brain dump: the other night, when I was feeling so grumpy, I started reading The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, by Bill Bryson. Very few books make me laugh out loud. This one does, every single time I sit down and read a few pages. I highly recommend it.

En vacances

I've just submitted that article I've been working on, so now I'm really on vacation. Kathleen and I have plans today to go out to lunch and then a Houston Symphony concert. We're hoping to get to the gym this morning, too -- something I really could use after the sumptuous snacky dinner we had last night. Freddy made me a glass of kir -- white wine from France with a little splash of blackberry liqueur. Delicious! And we had various puff-pastry hors d'oeuvres and foie gras (which I tried and didn't love) and chips and dip. And peanut butter cookies with Hershey's Kisses in the middle. This, after Kathleen's homemade Reubens for lunch. I'm going to be as big as Texas by the time I get back. But I'm enjoying it!

Abby participated in Patrick's recreational therapy yesterday, and had a good time. They played board games, and she got a little bossy ("Patrick, it's your turn now!") but it was nice to have some structured playtime, and good for both of them to practice their social interaction skills. We then ran some errands and Abby got to see a dog being groomed at Petco -- something her wonderful therapist had recommended, because Abby is so into playing dogs lately.

Houston is an interesting landscape. There are no zoning laws here, no planning boards, so many of the residential neighborhoods are subdivisions, which protect homeowners from having commercial development spring up next to them. Kathleen and Freddy live in a gated community, which is very nice. The houses are closer together than I would have imagined, with all this land down here. Smaller yards than I envisioned. But there's still a nice sense of privacy, with fences and the way the houses are angled in their cul-de-sac.

There's an interesting opinion piece about urban planning and what it means for development and economic growth in today's Houston Chronicle. I'm not sure I agree with it, but it can certainly give readers an idea of the mindset of many Texans on this issue.

Oink, oink

Yesterday was a very bad eating day. Maybe after months of Weight Watchers I've finally snapped. I'm starting to wonder if I have an eating disorder -- not anorexia or bulimia, but eat-everything-I-can-get-my-hands-on-ia.

I won't list everything I ate, as I can't remember it all and it would be too humiliating, anyway. As my friend Suzette Martinez Standring wrote, a food diary is "pornography on paper." Suffice to say that the list would be very long, and ugly.

I wonder if it's time for a different approach. A few years ago, I took off about 5 pounds by taking a look at my eating behaviors and making up a few rules to head off the most egregious ones. My rules were:

1. Sit down when I eat. At the table, with a plate. Not standing up in the kitchen, or anywhere else.
2. No second helpings. I can always have a snack later, if I need it.
3. Have a little (a little) dark chocolate after lunch and dinner.

Those rules were adapted from a book called The Fat Fallacy, which turned my low-fat-food-pyramid rules of the 90s on their heads. It was more about eating in moderation, like the French do, rather than policing the substance of everything we eat. The chocolate rule was about having a little treat and, as the book said, getting a little butterfat on board to help with satiety.

I still eat standing up, in the kitchen, where no one can see me, especially the kids. This cannot be good for me. If I'm sitting down to eat, it's an event that I have to own up to, not mindless grazing. So it's definitely time to revive that rule.

I'm not big into second helpings, although I do have them occasionally. I can watch that, too.

I'll happily get some dark chocolate to comply with that rule.

More fruits and veggies can't hurt, either.

This little pig is going French today. Wish me bonne chance.