Sunday, March 18, 2007

A Sunday without Fried Chicken

My parents have completely gutted their kitchen for a remodel of epic proportions. This will update their food space from 1970's um... I can't think of a good description of the style... maybe just inconvenient and poorly laid out... to sleek 2000's granite, stainless steel and a layout with a wonderful flow. What this means to my diet is that I am not eating Sunday dinners at my mom's for the next six weeks at least. This is probably a good thing as each Sunday at 12:30, despite my best efforts, I almost always eat too many calories and too much fat.

I have shrunk my portions to about what my three-year-old nephew eats (though FYI, that boy CAN eat) but mom splurges in her cooking on Sundays. Everyone in our family is on some form of diet - my parents for my step-dad's pre-diabetes; my younger brother has breached a number that best not been mentioned here, so he is cutting calories; and my youngest brother and his fiance are both on Weight Watchers. But on Sunday, though she often tries to "health" things up, my mom ends up allowing for and sometimes encouraging indulgence.

She's not trying to sabotage anyone, but food is one of the ways that she shows love; it has been all of my life. Maybe that's why, though I love spending time with my family, sometimes I dread Sunday dinner. I am in a stage in my life where my health and well-being is tantamount to almost anything, except my family. I try to control my food as a way of controlling my life and hopefully my long future (due to being healthier), sometimes obsessively - but that is another post. Going to dinner, where I don't direct the menu is giving up that control and it's very hard to do.

It's especially hard when I have had too many conversations to number with my mom about changes she could make in the menu to meet everyone's dietary needs and she either gets defensive or promises change and then balks when it's time to cook. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate that it's a free meal and I shouldn't be picky, but when we have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and dessert (which I askew) every other week - the other weeks are often a cheesy pasta - I begin to feel helpless.

Lest you think that I have given up on educating my mom on healthful cooking and menu diversity, pish, I will keep up the fight. I have a couple of new weapons coming online in the form of new gourmet and whole food stores opening in the metro in the coming weeks to get her excited about new possibilities. But I just needed to vent a little and of course, that's what this is for I do believe.

Now, if I were serious about catharsis I would probably take a hard look at why my mom shows love through food and why I am showing signs of being my mother. But alas, that's yet another theme for a coming post.

Best always, Kate
Weight - 196

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