No more 260s, 250s, 240s and now...230s!

I feel like I am fabricating milestones out of the air, but I can't resist saying goodbye to each burdensome ten pounds. (What word am I looking for here?? Ack! I want to say 'decade,' but that's not right. Oh well, goodbye, 230s!!)

This morning, I was feeling food-venturous and decided to have sauteed spinach for breakfast. Try to guess how tired I am of protein shakes, haha. So, I threw some soy sauce, rice wine, garlic and water chestnuts into the hot pan, and then tossed in the spinach to wilt down quickly. I ate what my little plastic container claims is 125 ml worth - which means, ummmm, 1/2 cup. Yum! I lurves me some spinach. This was my second real foray into the vegetable world since my surgery, since last week I oven roasted some brussel sprouts. Also tasty! They didn't go over as well as the spinach, but I think the main problem there was overindulgence. Eek.

Last night, in an attempt to prove myself foolish and unwilling to learn, I ate fortune cookies. We have a five or more pound bag at home in anticipation of my daughter's slumber party this weekend. See, if you go directly to the fortune cookie factory, you can buy giant bags of what I call "misfortune cookies" (they, much less ominously, call them "unfortunate cookies."). Anyway, flat, crumpled, reject fortune cookies. Actually much better tasting than regular fortune cookies.

Things Julie should not eat, ever again: croutons by the handful; fortune cookies; angel food cake...these are food items in which I exercise no self control. There are others, but strangely, these are the only ones I can think of right now. Credit that to the detached interest in food, I guess. I am wracking my brain to think of the many danger foods...um, peppermint ice cream. Anyway, croutons (which I made the other night and tossed, you may recall) and fortune cookies have to top the list. I like small and crunchy!

So...do I "dump?" Did I tell you about puking on the drive home the other night?? The results are inconclusive on the dumping issue. On Sunday, I had two small bites of frosted cupcake, to no apparent problem. Later, on the way home, I drank diet Snapple, of which I have consumed muchly lately. Did I drink too fast? Did the cupcake catch up to me? It was long enough later that I really think it was drink too much/too fast. Anyway, I terrorized my children by repeatedly retching and ultimately spewing foamies out the car window as we approached home. (I wouldn't sit here and tell you this in the course of normal conversation, haha, but this *is* after all a blog about my experiences with VSG surgery, and you'll get what you came for!)

I do think that was due to drinking too fast. The cupcake bites were small, and some time had passed before the drive home. Not enough time to conclusively rule it out, but still.

Okay - back to the fortune cookies. Now, pre-surgery, I could lay back some misfortune cookies. Thankfully, I only bought them once or twice a year. But, like Captain Crunch cereal, I could eat them until the roof of my mouth was cut to ribbons. (Captain Crunch is not a food item I generally consumed, however.) Post-op, I had probably three cookies.

So, do I "dump?" Hmm, no retching, no diarrea. Horrible, aching pains, though. Note to self: truly, you must not cede to your sweet tooth's desires. Sugar seems like a very unwelcome treat. Not a treat at all, really. A torture.

As I had to do regarding a  man I once knew, I wallowed in my pain and urged myself to remember this feeling the next time I thought I wanted to eat sweets. Remember - I told myself, as I had with this particular man, "The anticipation and the experience is not worth the aftermath." NOT. WORTH. IT.

Even if it seems like it will be yummy and fun and totally different this time...err, I've forgotten if I'm talking about the man or the cookies! Either way: bad, bad, bad.