one little, two little, three little calories

On Father’s Day, when we went to the zoo, Not So went camera crazy and took a bunch of pictures of me. This is one of the things I love about him: the way he sees me. The only problem is I can see me, too, and I? I am the size of a house.

I used to love having my picture taken, but I don’t look like me anymore, and it’s disconcerting. Whenever I see pictures of myself now I feel like I’ve just discovered a big clump of spinach between my front teeth. I went out like that? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Over the course of the last year I’ve gained, I don’t know, a metric ton. My chin is indistinguishable from my neck, and I have the beginnings of a hump from slouching over the stroller or holding the baby or something, I don’t know. I look like a troll. I mean that literally.

Women in my family (the Italian side of it, anyway) become…somewhat larger in their 30s. Family gatherings tend to look like an episode of Higglytown Heroes, only with somewhat less wobbling. I was always skinny, and I assumed I’d take after the crack-fiend thin relatives on my mom’s side, but apparently having a baby activated my “Rubenesque Italian Mama” gene. Unfortunately I still have the pointy features of a borderline anorexic, so I look somewhat like I’m being swallowed by my own fat. It’s not pretty.

So I’ve decided to be proactive for once, and started charting my food intake at The Daily Plate, a diet and fitness site. It’s in beta, and you know how I love a good beta. I’m kind of a geek about stuff like that. Makes me feel like I’m ahead of the curve.

So far, according to their ever-so-handy little calculator, I should be consuming around 1900 calories a day to lose a pound a week. I might need a bit more, since I’m breastfeeding (and there’s no “nursing mom” check box), but something in that vicinity should be good. I entered all the food I ate yesterday and it came in right at 1900 calories, but I suspect that’s because I skipped lunch. Which, you know, isn’t the best idea ever.

Writing down everything I’m eating is at least making me more aware of what I put in my mouth, and that’s always a good thing. Maybe this week (since we’re poor right now anyway, with the whole “putting down a deposit on the office” thing and what have you) I’ll eat like a normal person and lose a few pounds. It sure would be nice to have a chin again.

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3 thoughts on “one little, two little, three little calories”

  1. Hee. I’d be glad to trade. My fat cells are profligate! There are plenty to go around!

    Dude, I *wish* you lived upstairs from me! Tiffany and Ellison could hang out while we made elaborate plans to take over the world. Or, uh, discussed the Wiggles, or something. 🙂

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  2. Wanna make a deal? I’ll take ten pounds off you if you take my skinny-ass left flank and ribcage that is incapable of creating fat cells away from me.

    you take care. hell, I am starting to feel like you live downstairs from me, and if that’s not a sign of an unhealthy attachment it’s definately a kindred spirit developing.

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