Teaching An Old Dog New Tricks
Today is a milestone day on my little lap band journey. I'm now allowed regular liquids including meal replacement shakes instead of only clear liquids like broths. That's a biggie for me. I made the mistake of gulping a slug of my hot tea on Saturday evening, and paid in discomfort for a half hour thereafter, so I'm starting slowly with a cup of coffee ina Sippy cup.
Yes, I typed "a Sippy cup." You see, learning to eat in very tiny amounts requires some re-education. Besides learning not to take big mouthfuls of hot tea (or coffee, for that matter), I have to learn to sip delicately like a lady. Go ahead and laugh. I did. Me? Okay, so pain can teach an old dog new tricks.
However the Sippy cup resembles a sparkly purple travel coffee mug, I know what it is. My adult dignity is slightly offended by this ten-ounce cure to greedy gulping. I took out the plastic insert, but it still gives me some much needed control over what flows into my mouth. I need it, but I want something that doesn't offend my dignity quite so much.
So, I rummaged in my china hutches until I found my great-grandmother's tiny delicate bowls and plates. Just using these bone china items gives me the willies and inspires caution. You definitely don't gouge out a scoop of even Jell-o from that fragile bowl.
Since my new stomach pouch will hold less than three ounces, I'm definitely going to learn portion control in a hurry. I don't want to waste food, but I think 1/2 cup of oatmeal will fill that teeny bowl to the brim and be much more than I can eat at a sitting. Amazing.
I'm now looking at food completely differently now. It's more "You want me to eat THAT MUCH? Uh, no!" than "Yuk! That looks disgusting." Pizza, burgers, and sweets still look and smell appetizing. I just know better than to think about having more than a taste. That's it. Less than a mouthful, thanks, or I'll be in agony later when that bread, rice, or potato plugs up my stomach like a cork in a bottle and sends me to the ER. How about I settle for a slice of pepperoni to nibble on, thanks. You have the rest with my blessing. Please feel free.
I certainly feel free. I'm not limited except by good sense and my own free will. I chose this path. I like the way I will live for the rest of my life. I don't need breads, cakes, pastas, nuts, and rice to be happy. I'll roll up my ham slice in a piece of romaine lettuce and have an excellent "sandwich" on a picnic this summer. Next year at Thanksgiving, I'll enjoy a bit of turkey, veggies, and maybe a spoonful of the pumpkin pie filling. (I'll give my crust to my grateful dog, who is joyously happy to clean my plate of scraps.) I'll smile in triumph while DH and Dante make pigs of themselves on the stuffing, gravy, and dinner rolls because I made those things for them to enjoy. I get more satisfaction out of watching them enjoy than I do being fat.
By the way, I've dropped twenty pounds since mid-November. Not a bad start to a New Year.
Lena
Yes, I typed "a Sippy cup." You see, learning to eat in very tiny amounts requires some re-education. Besides learning not to take big mouthfuls of hot tea (or coffee, for that matter), I have to learn to sip delicately like a lady. Go ahead and laugh. I did. Me? Okay, so pain can teach an old dog new tricks.
However the Sippy cup resembles a sparkly purple travel coffee mug, I know what it is. My adult dignity is slightly offended by this ten-ounce cure to greedy gulping. I took out the plastic insert, but it still gives me some much needed control over what flows into my mouth. I need it, but I want something that doesn't offend my dignity quite so much.
So, I rummaged in my china hutches until I found my great-grandmother's tiny delicate bowls and plates. Just using these bone china items gives me the willies and inspires caution. You definitely don't gouge out a scoop of even Jell-o from that fragile bowl.
Since my new stomach pouch will hold less than three ounces, I'm definitely going to learn portion control in a hurry. I don't want to waste food, but I think 1/2 cup of oatmeal will fill that teeny bowl to the brim and be much more than I can eat at a sitting. Amazing.
I'm now looking at food completely differently now. It's more "You want me to eat THAT MUCH? Uh, no!" than "Yuk! That looks disgusting." Pizza, burgers, and sweets still look and smell appetizing. I just know better than to think about having more than a taste. That's it. Less than a mouthful, thanks, or I'll be in agony later when that bread, rice, or potato plugs up my stomach like a cork in a bottle and sends me to the ER. How about I settle for a slice of pepperoni to nibble on, thanks. You have the rest with my blessing. Please feel free.
I certainly feel free. I'm not limited except by good sense and my own free will. I chose this path. I like the way I will live for the rest of my life. I don't need breads, cakes, pastas, nuts, and rice to be happy. I'll roll up my ham slice in a piece of romaine lettuce and have an excellent "sandwich" on a picnic this summer. Next year at Thanksgiving, I'll enjoy a bit of turkey, veggies, and maybe a spoonful of the pumpkin pie filling. (I'll give my crust to my grateful dog, who is joyously happy to clean my plate of scraps.) I'll smile in triumph while DH and Dante make pigs of themselves on the stuffing, gravy, and dinner rolls because I made those things for them to enjoy. I get more satisfaction out of watching them enjoy than I do being fat.
By the way, I've dropped twenty pounds since mid-November. Not a bad start to a New Year.
Lena
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