Just desserts

I am crushed. I just discovered a betrayal of monumental proportion. My favorite restaurant is deliberately utilizing sophisticated, pre-meditated, cognitive techniques in order to manipulate my behavior and psychologically pressure me into doing what they want me to do. This is one of those horrifying realities you try hard not to believe. But at a certain point, you can no longer deny the subversive tactics being employed against you.

I have a favorite eatery. It is one of those restaurants I never tire of frequenting. Their food is delicious, relatively low cal, fresh, filling and nutritious. And they have fabulous desserts. The greatest thing about their desserts is that nothing is ever over 475 calories. Plus the desserts are incredibly eye-pleasing, decadent and small enough to avoid any kind of post-repast guilt or remorse. I always order dessert at this restaurant. Until yesterday.

Yesterday I met my mom and sister-in-law at my fave spot late in the afternoon. I just wanted coffee since I’d eaten several hours earlier. But both of them were hungry and ordered lunch. After they’d finished eating and our table had been cleared, our server came by, dessert tray in hand, and began laying out clean napkins and silverware for dessert. “I don’t think anyone is going to indulge,” I kindly remarked to save him the trouble of replacing all of the utensils and painstakingly describing each of the 10 stunning desserts before us.

He continued placing the silverware, though, as if he hadn’t heard me. My sister-in-law chimed in, “I don’t think we’re going to order dessert.” Again he ignored us and started to describe the first item on the tray, a healthy peach melba housed in a miniature shot glass.

It was then that I realized something astounding. I felt guilty. I felt guilty that he’d gone to all that trouble to lay out the table for dessert and I suddenly felt compelled, out of some kind of misguided sense of duty, to indulge in one of the tiny, tasty treats. I didn’t actually want to eat dessert. I’ve been very disciplined the last few days, adhering to my daily weight watcher point limit. Dessert was the farthest thing from my mind. But I was going to order one simply because I suddenly felt compelled to not hurt his feelings. Rationally, I realized the absurdity of this. But emotionally I’d been hooked. This realization, however, ignited my inner will. “We don’t want dessert!” I announced emphatically.

The server was taken aback by my assertive stance. He looked stunned, and hurt, like I’d shocked him, wounded him, rudely interrupted him. “But I have to finish,” he stammered. “It’s restaurant policy.” And at that moment, everything became clear. “You mean, that’s why you kept placing the dessert spoons and napkins on the table even though we said we didn’t want anything?” I inquired. Then he confessed, “Oh yeah. There’s a whole psychology to getting people to order dessert.”

Feeling guilty? Try not ordering one.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he fearfully implored, “And if anyone asks, I did describe every dessert. OK?” We assured him of our loyalty and he defeatedly collected the spoons, napkins, and dessert tray and slunk away. His disappointment was palpable.

My sister-in-law picked up the tab. I bet she left him a hefty tip in response to his despondent demeanor. But wait a minute, maybe that was simply another form of emotional manipulation. Maybe he was merely feigning dismay in order to secure a few more gratuity percentage points. I wouldn’t put it past him.

It really is true. Once trust is destroyed in a relationship you can never go back.

Why I eat grapefruit

Behold; my beloved acrid orb

I eat grapefruit because I’m selfish. It’s a repugnant realization. But I have to be straight. I mean, if you’re not gonna be honest with yourself, how can anyone else believe anything you say?

I came to this objectionable awareness the other day after my children devoured two flats of Costco strawberries, three giant Jazz apples from A.J.’s, a bulging bag of juicy, seedless purple grapes, and two pints of exorbitantly priced blueberries from the farmer’s market. You see, nothing is ever mine! And it’s not fair. I get hungry too.

I go to some type of grocery store every single day because my children love fresh, healthy fruits and vegetables more than life itself. I know you’re thinking, “and she has a problem with that?” But hear me out. It’s all well and good until my husband or I venture into the kitchen with a craving for a crisp cucumber or a newly picked peach. It’s never there! They eat EVERYTHING! This is not hyperbole. You can ask anyone who’s ever shared a snack with my boys. They’ll bypass the deep fried mozzarella sticks, skip the salty potato puffs, and opt instead for a platter of peppers or an extra helping of honeydew. The other day I nuked a bunch of brussel sprouts only to discover them completely eaten by the time I set the table for dinner.

Thus I have turned to grapefruit. It is bitter, tough to peel, and time consuming to ingest. Three traits that ensure my boys will avoid it like gluten. Loosely interpreted, this means that I can fill the fruit bowl with several of my acrid orbs on Monday and when I finally get around to eating them on Wednesday, they will still be there! I can even sit down on the coach, in full view of my children, and indulge in my citrus sections without fear of having to share even one slice with those irresistible imps arguing over the tv remote control.

I know it’s ugly. I should be ashamed. But sometimes, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Hmmm…maybe I’ll start eating liver.

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Six word memoir

Who are you really, In six words or less?

I was listening to NPR today and they promoted an upcoming segment on writing your own memoir — in six words. The minute I heard it I was hooked. Six words to tell the world who you were, what your life meant. Fascinating. Tricky. Impossible. I became obsessed. It’s like that game we used to play as kids; “If your house was burning down, what three things would you save?”

If you only had six words, who would you be? Can you hone a description of yourself to that fine a point? Without cliche? Without limiting all that you are?

I began to work:

So much laundry, need to write.

Write to live. Mother to love.

More than mom. Creator, artist, dreamer.

Watch stars. Play Clue. Want more.

Seeking balance — motherhood and self expression.

I asked a friend what his would be. He said, “I would have done it different.” That made me sad.

I kept working. Then I checked out the NPR transcript since I hadn’t even heard the show. Apparently the idea came from “Smith,” the online magazine. Based on the legend that Hemingway once responded to a challenge to write a complete story in six words with, “For Sale: baby shoes, never worn,” They asked readers to tell their life stories in a single sentence. What resulted was a book,“Not Quite What I Was Planning,” by Smith founding editor, Larry Smith and his memoir editor, Rachel Fershleiser.

Here are a few excerpts from the book:

After Harvard, had baby with crackhead. - Robin Templeton

Watching quietly from every door frame. - Nicole Resseguie

Savior complex makes for many disappointments. - Alanna Schubach

Born in the desert, still thirsty. - Georgene Nunn

Almost a victim of my family - Chuck Sangster

Painful nerd kid, happy nerd adult. - Linda Williamson

Then I went back to work on my own. Clearly being a mother was key to my self description. But so was being an artist, an independent creative being. I netted out with this:

“Deep loving mom, creating art to live.”

What would your six word memoir say?

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Perception vs. reality

Is it me...or is it...memorex?

I have what’s commonly known as “body dysmorphia.” Well, I don’t know how commonly known it actually is. It’s really called “Body Dysmorphic Disorder.” I looked it up. Here’s what it said, “Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is sometimes referred to as dysmorphic syndrome. It is a psychological disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by a perceived defect in his or her body image.” Does this not apply to everyone?

But wait, there’s more:
“It is estimated that 1–2% of the world’s population meet all the diagnostic criteria for BDD” Is that all? I find that hard to believe!!! Every woman I know over 40 has this. Seriously, I’m not making light of this because I really do have it.

I am and always have been convinced that I am HUGE. I’m not joking. When I look in the mirror, I see a fat woman looking back at me. Now over the years, with a tremendous amount of drugs and counseling, I have come to understand that my perception of myself is not the same as reality. I also understand (although this part is harder for me to believe) that if I surveyed 100 people who knew me, few if any would describe me as portly.

This is a challenging disorder to cope with. Shopping, for instance, is impossible. I spend all this time picking out size 16 capris and extra large tank tops, and then I put them on and think “Wow, I look pretty hot.” Then I get home and my husband is like, “What were you thinking? You look like a small child who just raided her mommy’s closet.”

I know what you’re thinking; Freud could definitely interpret that into some kind of wistful maternal longing based on a lack of nurturing from my childhood. But I’m not gonna go there. Anyway, I usually try to take someone with me when I shop these days. It’s kind of like that great moment in “A Beautiful Mind” when Russel Crowe (who has these visual halucinations) asks one of his students if the man who just approached him to offer him a Nobel prize actually exists.
I’ve tried asking salespeople if the billowy blouse I’m unsure of is actually my size. But they’re so eager to sell anything that I’ve yet to meet someone who answers me honestly.

Over the years my husband has gently nudged me towards developing a more fitted wardrobe. I’ve been afflicted with BDD as long as I can remember. In fact, I recall wearing most of my 6’3” father’s clothing throughout much of high school years. I told everyone it was my ode to Annie Hall. But retrospectively I think I honestly believed those clothes were the only ones that I could squeeze my 5’8” scrawny frame into. It’s actually kind of sad when I think about it.

The other day I was talking to this friend of mine who has personality dysmorphia. She honestly sees herself as reliable, reflective, altruistic and uniquely sensitive. She is, in fact, a thoughtless, self-obsessed flake who spends her life ruminating over inane dramas that truly don’t even exist. I realized that body dysmorphia maybe isn’t all that bad. It’s kind of like that famous saying; “I cried because I had no shoes. Until I met a man who had no feet.” Wow, do you think he really had no feet? Or could he possibly have been suffering from BDD?

In any event, I should probably get a new friend.

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In defense of the peanut!

STOP BLAMING THE DAMN PEANUT!

Poor parents. We’re so misunderstood. We’re just trying to do the right thing and protect our kids from a devastating legume and then someone, well, a lot of someones actually, comes out and throws a bunch of annoying facts around and we have to face the truth. We are responsible for the plethora of peanut anaphylaxis plaguing our offspring.

I know, it’s like so hard to swallow (tee hee). Here we are delaying introduction of the dreaded edible in order to protect our youngsters, when incontrovertible research now shows that it is in fact this late introduction that causes the dangerous allergic reactions we are trying so hard to avoid. What was that? It’s true. The research shows that it is precisely our delaying the introduction of peanuts into our kid’s diets that’s responsible for the unprecedented surge in peanut allergies.

You see, there is a window theory that has dominated our nation’s feeding philosophies for years. It says that if you introduce foods too early, or too late, you will increase allergic diseases later in life. These allergic diseases include: Food allergies, Eczema (Atopic Dermatitis), Hay Fever (Allergic Rhinitis), wheezing, and Asthma. Many of us remember the dire warnings to avoid eating peanuts during pregnancy and to never feed a baby anything peanut tinged until at least 3 years of age.
In December 2008 the AAP released a policy statement saying that although solids should not be introduced before 4-6 months of age, there is no current convincing evidence that delaying their introduction has a significantly protective effect. This includes foods considered to be highly allergic, such as fish, eggs, and foods containing peanut protein.
Many studies now confirm this finding. One of the more comprehensive 5 year studies showed that delaying introduction of peanut protein to 2 or 3 years of age did not decrease the rate of allergies at all. In fact, there are convincing studies that show that earlier introduction of these foods actually decreases allergies. The best study that demonstrate why feeding early makes sense is a study done by Du Toit, et al in the Journal of clinical immunology, nov 2008. This study followed 5615 kids in Israel and 5171 kids in the United Kingdom, all of Jewish descent to assure a similar genetic makeup. The Israeli kids ate peanuts earlier and in larger quantities than the English children and had a 10 fold lower rate of peanut allergies than the UK kids.
Another paper, recently published in the January 2010 issue of Pediatrics by Bright, Et al., was a Finnish prospective cohort study. It concluded that late introduction of solid foods was associated with increased risk of allergic sensitization to food and inhalant allergens. Specifically, the study showed a significant increased allergic risk by delaying fish past 8.2 month and eggs past 10.5.
Here are a few convincing tidbits of information from various studies:
– Pediatrics July 2008; Snijders, et al: Delayed introduction of cow’s milk and other foods was associated with a higher risk of eczema (a type of skin allergy)
– Pediatric allergy Immunology, Feb. 2008; Prescott, et al: Tolerance to food allergies appears to be driven by regular, early exposure to these proteins during a critical early “window” of development.
– Acta pediar. May 2009; Wennergrad: Elimination of food allergens during pregnancy and infancy failed to prevent food allergy. Instead several studies indicate early introduction of foods like fish and peanuts may be beneficial. Conclusions: early introduction rather than avoidance may be a better strategy for the prevention of food allergy. (This was a meta analysis)
– Pediatrics Feb. 2006; Zutavern : Cohort study- no evidence to support delayed introduction of solids beyond 6 months of age to prevent Atopic disease.
Archive of Childhood Diseases 2004; Zutavern: late egg introduction increased eczema and wheezing.

The fact remains that food allergies are increasing at an alarming rate. (20 years ago we had never heard of “peanut free zones”). According to the Center for Disease Control (CDC), in 2007, approximately 3 million children under age 18 (that’s almost 4 out of every 100) were reported to have a food allergy. The prevalence of peanut allergies has doubled in the 5 years from 1997 to 2002 (Journal of Allergy & Clinical Immunology Dec. 2003.)

Maybe it’s time to reexamine our feeding philosophies. The facts are clear. Early introduction of high risk foods is the best way to avoid allergies later in life. But we’re all so darn afraid of making a mistake that we overcompensate and choose to delay, or even decline, the introduction of certain foods, like peanuts, and we miss the critical window of opportunity for safe introduction. Our fears are actually causing more harm than good.

And because this is such a hotly debated issue in our culture, the media has shied away from reporting these findings.
Maybe it’s time to tell the truth about peanuts and offer an alternative view of the beleaguered legume. Especially when that view is based on solid research, clear clinical data, and scientifically sound evidence.
So dare to stand up for the unfavorable protein! Go on, I say, break out the pb and j for junior; and the sooner the better.

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The power of a Twinkie

Twinkies...the new diet aid?

“Four out of five dentists recommend sugarless gum for their patients who chew gum.” Do you remember that slogan? Have you ever thought about that slogan, about the sheer inanity of that slogan? What does it mean? That one out of every five dentists recommend sugar-saturated Bubble Yum over the sugar-free alternative?

I don’t know about you, but I have never met a single dentist who advised me or my children to chomp on sugar-laden bubblegum. Not one. Yet 20 percent apparently were counseling patients to coat their teeth with sickeningly sweet, caloric, cavity-inducing chewing gum. Why is that?

Because in any study, any collection of information, any data sampling and analysis, there will be a shockingly high percentage of people, (often impressive, well-degreed people), who espouse a point of view that is not only patently untrue, but may actually border on the edge of absurdity.

Think about it. We know beyond the shadow of a doubt that there is no link between autism and immunizations. There have been countless, international, meta-analyses to prove this. Yet an entire subculture of parents is out there proliferating this hogwash and exposing their children to deadly diseases like polio, measles, and whooping cough. Why? Because celebrities like Jenny McCarthy insist that the evil medical industry is responsible for sickening her child with autism. (Not to worry though. She changed his diet and cured him!).

Never mind the facts. There will always be someone who will say something insane, unsound and idiotic about anything.

I have numerous friends who are currently on the HCG hormone diet. This diet allegedly resets your metabolism and you lose tons of weight in a mere three-week period. Here’s the catch: You are only allowed to ingest 500 calories a day for 21 days. This new diet craze, which incidentally first appeared in the 1940s, has been conclusively shown to be dangerous, even deadly, in several circumstances. But all it takes is some “expert” on television touting its benefits, and millions of people rush to the naturopath for a dose of the delightful diet aid.

To prove a point, Mark Haub, a professor of human nutrition at Kansas State University, put himself on a Twinkie diet. For two months, he only ate Hostess Twinkies, snack cakes and other equally junky munchies. He lost 27 pounds. His point? It doesn’t matter what you eat. Just eat less, burn more calories, and you’ll shed the extra weight.

But we want to believe in miracles. We want to uncover the truth that someone somewhere is conspiring to keep from us. The truth that will make us thin, cure our kids and ultimately set us free.

Keep this in mind: if there is even one licensed dentist in this country recommending sugar-filled Bazooka to their gum-chewing patients, you can pretty be pretty sure there are plenty of other people who will say something illogical, irrational and idiotic about almost anything.

My advice? Trust no one. Question everything. And never, ever underestimate the power of a Twinkie.

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Autism hysteria: look at the facts!

The facts:
1.Autism is a neural development disorder.
2.Autism is genetically based.
3.There is no cure for autism.

A recent study in the Journal “Pediatrics” suggests that 1 in 100 children have some form of Autism Spectrum Disorder. Thatʼs about 1% of children.

It sounds scary. But letʼs pretend weʼre Nancy Drew or Encyclopedia Brown for a moment. Letʼs start by examining how the data was collected:

In phone interviews of 78,000 families, parents were asked if their child was ever told by any health care provider that he had an autism spectrum disorder (ASD). (Keep in mind that includes autism, Aspergers and pervasive developmental disorder).

Honestly, Iʼm not sure I know anyone who wasnʼt told at some point by someone that their child had ASD. Either kids were stacking cans, refusing to socialize, or throwing tantrums at Target. Whatever the negative behavior, there are plenty of health care providers out there who are all too willing to label the first signs of antisocial behavior as ASD. However, the mere asking does not dictate the disease.

The investigators also asked a follow-up question: Did these same ASD children still have the disease? The answer? 40% of parents and guardians said no.

OK, I know how inconvenient factual evidence can be, but letʼs glance back to the three undisputed facts at the top of the page. Check out number 3. There is no cure for Autism. Get out your magnifying glass and fingerprint duster kit. Itʼs not going to take much detective work to figure this one out. Obviously, 40% of kids included in the ASD numbers did not really have autism at all. Why am I the only one who sees this clearly? Do you think nearly half of all ASD sufferers were touched by some kind of Godly miracle? Maybe these lucky kids were prayed for by a group of extremely pious Tibetan monks? Or maybe they never had autism to begin with!

Iʼm tired of the hysteria. There are more cases of autism and ASD today because thatʼs how weʼre classifying every childhood behavioral abnormality. Have you ever bothered to notice that the numbers of children labelled mentally retarded has decreased in direct proportion to the increase of ASD sufferers? Wow, what a starting coincidence.

But what really pisses me off is that people want to believe in a cure that doesn’t yet exist. We want it so badly that we’re willing to believe anything. Look, I think we will find a cure, and hopefully soon. It will more than likely involve some highly advanced genetic engineering. Scientists are working hard to locate the Autism genes and find ways to repair or replace them. But it could take years. And I think itʼs a shame that so many families are shelling out good money to charlatans who promise to end Autism thru detox, diet, exercise, chiropractic adjustments, and laser treatments. If your child truly has autism, these fads are a waste of money and hope.

Don’t get me wrong, Iʼm all for giving your child all that you can in terms of love, resources, encouragement, education. If you have a child who does truly suffer from Autism, my deepest wish is that a cure will be found and that you and your child can live a relatively normal life. All I ask is that we donʼt insist that every childhood behavioral quirk is part of the Autism Spectrum. Letʼs use the resources and money we have for the children who really need it. That way we really can concentrate our efforts on solving the mystery of this debilitating disease.

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Wii Are Not Fat!

Our Wii insists that we’re overweight and chastises us for eating too much. I’m not sure what to do about it. My 8-year-old son is developing a body image complex.

We got this Wii last week. We’re not typically into the whole video game thing. But this is actually a fun way for the family to spend time together. We do yoga, golf, play tennis. We even try our hands at various (mostly impossible) balancing games. But here’s the problem: At the beginning of each session the Wii asks you to take a “body test.” It weighs you and measures your ability to stay centered and calculates your “Wii age.” The first time I did it I was like 54 (which depressed the hell out of me since I’m more than a decade younger). I was only buoyed by the fact that my 42-year-old husband first ended up with a reading of 62. Ha!

Anyway, once you work out every day and get the hang of it, your age goes down rather dramatically and you feel a whole lot less defeated by the damn thing. It also weighs you and if you haven’t lost any weight since your last session, it asks you all kinds of annoying questions like, “Why do you think you’ve gained weight? Are you eating at night?” It’s irritating to say the least. But I can handle the vexing probes. It’s my 8-year-old son who is developing a body image complex.

“Mom, I haven’t lost a single pound,” he laments. “What am I going to do?”

“Levi,” I answer, trying not to sound alarmed by his anorexic demeanor. “You are 8-years-old and as skinny as a rail. You are not supposed to lose weight. In fact, your job is to eat healthy and actually gain weight as you grow.”

“But the Wii says I should watch my calories and make sure to avoid rich desserts. Mom, I am soooooo fat!”

OK, now I’m officially panicked. Visions of 8-year-old bulimia dance in my head. “Don’t act distraught,” I tell myself. Maybe he’s just trying to get attention. As a previous anorexic myself, I shudder at the thought that somehow I’ve genetically passed my fat phobia on to my son. I make a note to call the “talking doctor” and set up an appointment ASAP.

But then it hits me – like a gift from the heavens. I’ll admit it’s devious, maybe even conniving. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Well, then I guess you wont be wanting any of these,” I announce matter-of-factly, as I dangle a bag of triple chocolate Tammy Co cupcakes under his nose.

Suddenly he is my son again. The lure of decadence has freed him from his dieting frenzy. He grabs the bag and dives into the cupcakes unabashedly. Soon he is blissfully covered in velvety chocolate swirls.

“Mom,” he looks up at me with wide-eyed elation, “These are amaaaaazing!”

I smile. “So are you, my sweet. So are you.”