I've started making a concerted effort to become a bit more healthy. I've been running at the gym and a little bit outside, both with mixed success. I have a short-term goal of running a 5k at the end of October, with a long-term goal of a half marathon during the summer.
So far, I've been very good about going to the gym regularly. I've been running every other day and doing circuit training or other activity on the off days. On Sundays, we have derby practice, but if it's a run day, that gets done too.
I've been very pleased with myself and my friends and family have been very supportive. I even created a Facebook page to keep track of what I've been up to and hopefully the public humiliation/encouragement will help me even more.
As far activity goes, I think I'm doing alright. The key now, is food.
Why does it have to taste so good?? I am beginning to think that there is a vast conspiracy that make vegetables and healthy food taste like feet. I do like to make grilled veggies and I love a good salad, provided it's covered in cheese and bacon bits.
That's at least three food groups, right? Salsa and nachos covers four! (Tomatoes are legally a fruit!)
Five, if you get them with meat!
My other main issue is quantity. I know that it's ok to eat bad food as long as it's in moderation but, seriously, who wants moderation when you have freshly made pumpkin caramel cheesecake?
When we make homemade pizza, why wouldn't I want 6 slices??
Portion control is something I do not do well. I'm working on it though.
Why is this in a parenting blog? Somehow, this has to be related to kids, right?
Harper has moved into happily being a picky eater, the kind of picky eater that makes me insane.
She won't eat. At least, she won't eat at a speed that prevents mold from growing on her meals. She jumps down from the table with the attention span and energy of a squirrel. I have been having lots of trouble at meals because I need slightly more order than that. By the end of the meal, there is usually more food on her plate than when she started.
This is because her food was given the time to grow, gain sentience, breed and raise multiple generations of baby chicken noodle soups, all in miniature bowls.
She also randomly decides that she doesn't like certain foods. Conversations go like this:
Me: Harper, what would you like for lunch?
H: Pizza!
Me: Alright. Let me warm it up for you.
**2 minutes later**
Me: Here's your lunch, babe.
H: I don't like pizza!
Me: ...You love pizza. You would eat it at every meal if I let you!
H: NOOOOO!! No pizza! I don't like it! I want soup!
At this point, another, perhaps better, parent would make her soup, followed by the next thing she asked for.
Brynn has been doing well, so my lofty goal is as follows:
I will take all the food I want and all the food that Harper wants to eat, put it all on a plate and split it in half.
Realistically, I should just eat half the food that I do...
