Women are delusional.
The above is a phrase I’ve heard trip over the lips of The Mister too many times to count over the years. My usual response is to roll my eyes and mutter “yes my love,” or heatedly discuss the point at him. I’m not so delusional as to believe the argument I present does more than slide past his glazed eyes before falling on deaf ears.
Today is different.
Today I agree.
(Did you feel that? I’m sure he’s just fallen to the ground in shock.)
The Mister, with some degree of dismay, asked me once if I believed my own propaganda.
My what? I said confused, before the penny dropped. Oh, the blog.
The blog in question expounded upon being happy in your own skin as I recall.
He wanted to know if I was taking any of the advice I was dishing out so liberally.
That sat me back on my heels a bit. Was I?
Not really.
On the surface I was, but deep down where it counts I was too busy putting on the big show to really believe it.
That’s when it happened, when I became a believer of the delusional woman theory.
I am delusional.
Everything I do is driven by some sort of mental process.
Can I justify eating 15 Dufflet tarts or cupcakes from Dekokos in a month? Hell ya!
Just do the math, if I only have one every other day and walk twice as much, bingo, calories are lost!
I never said I was good at math people, but I can convince myself of anything if I try hard enough.
The same goes for portions.
When The Mister, a strapping man who loves his food, was home over Christmas he cooked up a house-husband storm. I came home every evening to a mouth-watering plate heaped with an array of healthy and decadent delights. And I mean heaped!
The children’s eyes nearly burst from their heads thinking they needed to eat everything on this massive plate, the seams of my jeans strained at the thought. The Mister looked puzzled at his family who barely tucked into the feast he’d laid out.
Portions are a mental game with the children, I explained. A big plate with same portions that you put on a small plate looks easier to handle to them. Plus, if you start them with small spoonfuls of each dish it’s less overwhelming. They can always have seconds.
I work the opposite way. Taking recommended portions (http://www.webmd.com/diet/healthtool-portion-size-plate) of each food group and putting it on a small plate so I feel like I’m diving into far more food than I actually am.
Often in our fast-paced schedule we don’t stop to savour food, we just scarf it back and head for plate two before the first edition has landed on the doorstep of our gullet.
By the time he headed back on the road The Mister was feeding not only his family, but the dinner time delusion we feed into.
I’ve also enlisted the help of the Lose It app for the iPhone. It helps me keep track of what I eat while giving me a vague idea of the calories I ingest and breaks down the fat, cholesterol, sodium, carbohydrates and protein.
Sure I have goals punched into it but I’m not dedicated to it. I’m also not letting it run my life. If I go over, I go over.
That being said, in my delusional way, I make sure whatever is sending me over is worth it. Like a Dufflet tart or cup cake with a cup of my favourite tea in Dekokos.
Where I know I can indulge my love of good friends and decadent treats…just less often.
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Chatham