Playing the Hunger Games with my kids at every meal means that my own tend to get sacrificed. I eat sporadically throughout the day but but then end up so utterly famished by dinner time that I just eat everything in sight, not stopping until my head is firmly planted on my pillow.
This wasn't such a big deal when I was running a bunch of miles every day, but I'm not. And the binge eating is adding up.
So with summer and shorts and my desire to get a little more control back into my life, I decided to count calories.
I've really only done this one other time in my life when I did Weight Watchers while breastfeeding Bridget, which ended up being a total milk-drying disaster, though eye-opening nonetheless.
I did like the Weight Watchers point system, mostly because I could eat all the free (aka zero points) fruit and veggies I wanted. I mean a banana is 100 calories? That just doesn't seem right.
Even though I'm a healthy eater, my sense of portion control is completely fucked. I cannot tell you the shock and horror I experienced when I learned what a serving size of pasta was.
You mean I can't eat the entire bag of Swedish Fish? Bullshit.
So, learning how much I can consume to maintain a 1550 caloric intake per day is pretty eye opening. Okay, it's utterly mind boggling.
But with the help of the My Fitness Pal app, it's ridiculously easy.
Except that I'm a mom. And we don't eat or exercise the way most people do.
How do you notate half a Starbucks egg white and turkey bacon sandwich (no cheese) with half the egg eaten by your 3-year old and 2 of the 3 pieces of bacon fought over by everyone else?
Or the four bites of organic beef sloppy joe that you ate off your 18-month old's plate before she tossed it on the floor.
Then there's the barely 1/4 cup of oatmeal that's leftover from breakfast, the three carrot sticks you ate while preparing lunch for four kids, and pizza crusts that everyone left in the box.
And coffee with cream? That should be zero calories. Also, booze.
And don't even get me started on the exercise portion, which lately involves "Chasing an 18-month old around the house so she can put butt creme on her for 10 minutes" or "Wrestle 5-year old who begged you to play ninja warriors for 15 minutes."
The other day I walked on the treadmill for the duration of Elmo's World on Sesame Street. I don't know how long that is, exactly, other than way too freaking long to be listening to Elmo.
Hell, if people can put housecleaning down as exercise then I'm totally adding "getting toddlers dressed."
Even if I sit down and enjoy my breakfast, which lately I've been forcing myself to do much to the chagrin of my children who look at me like I'm telling them there are aliens living in our basement when I say "Mommy is eating her breakfast right now," I still have someone asking for something off my plate.
And don't get me wrong. I'm all for making the time to eat a meal bla bla kids need to know boundaries bla bla I'm the adult bla bla I should be taking care of myself bla bla they need me to set a good example.
But in my current reality, it's not possible.
By the time I sit down to eat lunch, someone is already done and climbing out of the their seat. Then someone else needs more water to drink or more ketchup. And right when I'm about to have a conversation about Polly Pockets or Ninjago, somebody spills something.
So if you're on My Fitness Pal and wondering who made all those weird entries for trail mix minus all the dried cranberries, 7 Goldfish, and pizza crusts, it's me.
And yes, I actually added "lego clean up" as an exercise.