September 2016

Abstaining for 21 Days: Detox Diet Food Diary Day 9

Detox Diets & Pigs: It’s a Wild, Wild Life
Did I mention I have pigs? OK, fine, not Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web pigs. Peruvian guinea pigs, if you must know. It just takes too long to say guinea pigs. Lazy, right?! They have very long hair—think Cousin It long—and yes, I give them haircuts. An oh-so-knowledgeable, minimum-wage-earning teenager helped my daughter pick the piggies out. I had foolishly hoped to stem her nonstop wheedling for a puppy. I know, delusional is tattooed on my forehead in invisible ink. Anyway, teenager told us red was a girl, gray a boy. I pushed for Rita (as in Hayworth) and Elvis (don’t know, can’t be bothered). Well, you can imagine how that went over with my kids. Who???!!! and NOOOOOO!!! were heard in New Jersey. So, Pebbles and Bam Bam it was. Except Pebbles is also a boy. Can you believe the minimum-wage teenager was wrong? Shocking! We kept Pebbles, and his name. He doesn’t seem traumatized thus far, but things may change once he hits that recess yard in kindergarten. I’ll be sure to keep in touch with the teachers.

Changing Eating Habits in a Hectic NY Life
So, why the pig-story detour? Dropped kids at school this morning and came right back home for a few work calls before heading to midtown for a meeting. Good sign—my watch says 8:37 a.m. I’ll be right on time for that 9:00 juice. Sadie’s ecstatic to see me—I know, I know, pigs ≠ puppies. Give her breakfast, then head for the playroom to check on the pigs—it’s the city girl’s version of down on the farm (the Zsa Zsa Gabor/Green Acres version). Water. How can they be almost out of water—again??? Replenish hay (see, told ya!), and as I turn back for veggies, Bammy stands up in the cage and starts yelling at me. Pay attention to me, pay attention to me. Why should he be any different than the other wildlife I’m raising?! Kids, dog, pigs—all want, need, beg, plead, whine, moan, complain, yell, scream, threaten help-me, feed-me, love-me, stay-with-me, wait-on-me, protect-me, support-me, entertain-me, clean-up-after-me, care-for-me. No wonder I only occasionally make a meal ontime!

At my meeting now, Tara, Michael (a/k/a Mr. Melissa☺), and Melissa, who started the company. OK, seriously, could she have an ugly day? PLEASE??? And when I take my first sip of my 9:00 a.m. juice at 12:a lot late, it hits me. My needs don’t come last. They don’t even make the list. Single mother, 2 children, exponentially full-time job, petting zoo, housework, bills, and all the rest, and only 2 senior-citizen volunteers for help—my parents (and, after my dad called from his meeting to say he was leaving to get grandchild at school and take her to ice skating to practice, I just said—I’m so lucky). I don’t know a working person on the island of Manhattan who isn’t ridiculously busy. Then add children to the mix, and forget it.

Delivered Detox Diet Meals . . . Need We Say it? Fabulous!
Exactly why the Joulebody delivered diet meals works for me, whether to lose weight or just healthy eating. In a million years I wouldn’t have time to prepare such a wide variety of foods and at this level of deliciousness. OK, bets on whether by the end of this daily food diary “delicious” and its other variations isn’t the most used word. Ordinarily I would say put your money on fabulous. I use that one a lot, something I didn’t realize until I got the invitation to my 40th birthday party and “fabulous” was on the front. I told Susanne and Andrea, who along with Joan, Jamie, Jodee, and Johanna (apparently, I also collect J friends!) how sweet that was. Susanne laughed—you don’t get it? Get what? It’s every third word out of your mouth. Who knew? Well, I’m nothing if not emphatic!!!!!

Ok, let’s hope Yvette doesn’t notice this next bit—I had lunch at 4:15. First, let me say the squash-fennel soup was delish (how many is that today?) and that it was quite easy to drink while I was on the phone with—you guessed it—VERIZON! Seems Mr. Sullivan forwarded my email to another nice-as-can-be tech guru who wanted to follow up on my internet issues. It’s 1 issue—NO INTERNET! OK, well, no WiFi, which might as well be no internet, since I’m all over the house with the laptop. I just had a funny thought. Paul Sullivan. Is he a real customer service VP or did someone just play 1 on the phone? Tawk amongst yourselves . . .

I got off with Verizon (Guess what? It’s “fixed”—again! Not ordinarily a cynical New Yorker. Look what you have reduced me too, Verizon!), and on the dot of look-what-a-good-girl-I-am, lemonade time! I let the wind out of my own sails a bit when I realize that I might be on schedule for the 5:00 lemonade, but 3:00 p.m. green had been completely forgotten. Big oops! But moving on. No time to regroup on that.

Make dinner for child the younger. Older, much-taller-than-me offspring at ex’s. Marinated skinless chicken breast (and, so as not to appear quite so virtuous—Soy Vey! It’s so delish I could bathe in it.), with sliced red pepper and sugar snap peas. Detox tea for me. Followed by Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader—live from my apartment. I swear textbook writers try to make the information seem more important by making things unnecessarily complicated. Child the older (8th grade) once had questions from his science textbook so complicated that I called Jamie, whose older son was in the same class. So, what’s the deal? Jamie: I had to read it about 5 times, and I think they’re asking them to calculate a weighted average. I learned in college, and I haven’t done it since. Super. I never learned. To 8th grader: I’ll write you a note.

Tonight, only momentarily stumped by seemingly unnecessary math vocabulary—they’re numbers, right? They need names, too??? Mom, 5 is a prime number, right? Fast mental calculation, process of elimination, see the little R2D2 lights inside my head blinking furiously . . . and ding, ding, ding, ding, ding—yes, sweetheart, 5 is a prime number. It’s a number that can’t be evenly divided by another number, right? The implication being that I want her to confirm she understands the concept, when in fact, I want her to tell me if I’m wrong. I received a resounding, Duh! and wonder why I was asked in the first place.

Homework over, she’s off and reading, flying through James Patterson’s Maximum Ride series. One more chapter, one more chapter. She’s fallen in love, just like I did—reading. Meanwhile, I’ve got writing to do—not just this food diary, but emails—Katrina, how are you feeling? Daniela, file tomorrow, perfect. Dania, here’s an idea for the image. Lindsay, let’s go over the interview. Distracted by a loud cheer—apparently, we’ve finished Max and are on to Fang. Charming. No Fang. Bedtime. Not yyyyeeeetttt! Huh? Do they all come out of the womb wearing a “Born to Negotiate” T-shirt??? It’s exhausting.

Dinner is on the tip of my tongue, but for the life of me, I don’t remember it! Child tucked in, back to work, emails, Sadie—tonight barking at my closet, whatever—then, my stomach growls. Yay—dinner. Again—YUM! Asian stuffed cabbage roll with crunchy nutty flavorful brown rice. Spoke to Yvette earlier and told her how much I loved the food. She read my mind—yeah, we would just love more of it. That, in a nutshell, is why most of the country should be doing this detox food cleanse—Melissa, of course, being the virtuous-eater minority (at one office party, she was excited about the broccoli. Me? Do I even need to say it?). And, my snarky quip when someone compliments my accessories? More Is More. I always want MORE—more time, more sleep, more togetherness, more books, more chocolate, more hugs. Less is not more, it’s less. Even a 5th grader knows that!—Nancy Rotenier

Related Links
Did You Miss the Beginning? Detox Diet Food Diary Day 0
How Did the First Day on the Diet Cleanse Go? Day 1
Does Day 2 of My Detox Diet Live Up to Yvette’s Dire Prediction?
Disaster Strikes—But It’s Not What You Think: Detox Diet Diary Day 3
Crying, Coffee & Customer Service: Detox Diet Food Diary Day 4
One Week Down: Detox Diet Food Diary Days 5, 6 & 7
Anger Management & Rapper D: Detox Diet Food Diary Day 8

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