Yesterday we had a playdate where we ate crappy takeout pizza for lunch. And before I had even finished eating my stomach was churning. It didn’t taste good, it was a waste of money, and I felt sluggish and gross afterwards. So why did I eat it? Because I have an emotional attachment to eating out.

I don’t really enjoy cooking; it’s sensory overload for me in many ways. And eating out has always been associated with luxury in my mind regardless of its quality – in fact eating fast food is almost MORE rebelliously wasteful considering how unhealthy it is the majority of the time. And even though I don’t enjoy eating out as much as I used to, I can’t seem to just grow up and be content with cooking/eating here. And I should, because I feel better when I eat better, duh. Plus I love that my daughter snarfs vegetables and Jack doesn’t know pop well enough to know Coke is called Coke and not cook or cock like he suggested this weekend when trying it. I feel strongly that in general people need to eat more healthily, and it’s just a matter of education and…what? Yes, I’d love some. With extra sour cream and cheese, please. Thanks.


So I randomly saw a show on BBC America while Lo was napping yesterday called You Are What You Eat. The gal is an holistic nutritionist, and she cuts to the chase about ‘poo’ and how your tongue reflects the status of your spleen, and she lays all the food each guest has eaten for a week on a table and HOLY BATMAN there is no hiding from it.

It lacks much of the drama and flash of American shows about weight and health (imagine that), but it was so eye-opening, even for someone like myself who considers herself pretty knowledgeable. It just shocked me the disconnect I have between what I know and what I do. It doesn’t add up. I mean, I just did a cleanse last week – it was supposed to be a 10-day fast but I only did a couple days, b/c I realized the process of coming back onto real food would take almost as many days and would require a basically raw-food diet. The fast itself would have been nothing for me, but the giving up of cheesy chicken enchiladas with refried beans? No way in hell. Yet when you detox your system so thoroughly, eating that would make you sicker than a dog. So I cut it short knowing I wouldn’t be able to be make the best choices afterwards. Dumb. That’s just dumb.

And my food-philosophy in theory supports minimal meat/dairy and mostly raw fruits and veggies. But in practice I’m nowhere near that, though I know how to do it and why to do it. And I’m all about moderation, but if you gave me a lifetime pass to Chipotle, I would eat there every other day. And you can have all the best ingredients in the world but those portion sizes alone would kill you!

I digress; this is not my point.

My point is that when you reach a stage where you aren’t even fulfilled by your choices, you should change your choice, right? Doesn’t that seem logical? But I can’t seem to do that, and I wonder how I can separate the emotional attachment of money and food. I’m not sure what else can motivate me, ’cause this ‘know-better-do-better’ thing doesn’t seem to be working for me in this department.

Any ideas? Anyone relate?