My Little Addiction

Did I mention that I love chocolate? Actually I think I should admit that it’s more of an addiction.

I like dark chocolate- hard core, very dark chocolate. I consider anything less than 70% to be pretty much milk chocolate.

I have chocolate for breakfast. Apparently, this is very French. Think chocolate croissant or “pain chocolat”. Mostly, I leave off the bread part and just have the chocolate. I’ll eat some oatmeal and eggs and then have my breakfast dessert chocolate.

Who says dessert should be limited to lunch and dinner?

I’ve met people who say they don’t like chocolate. I’m not sure they can be trusted. They don’t even like milk chocolate, which is just a gateway to the real thing.

And white chocolate? What is that supposed to be? It’s definitely not chocolate. It doesn’t have that nice, bitter little taste to it. It’s like the idea of “non-fat cream.” Cream is cream because it’s creamy.

I’m glad to know that the medical community is behind me now. I love reading the lists of foods with antioxidants and seeing dark chocolate there. I smile as I munch my little square.

I try to limit the number of squares I eat each day. That’s what the medical people advise. Because even though it’s good fat, there is still quite a bit of good fat in, say, a bar or two. Also, I buy fair trade and I must watch my chocolate budget.

Each morning I tell myself that I will limit myself to four squares. Two for breakfast, one for lunch and one for a snack. I try to stick to this, but I often fail. It calls to me. I realize this sounds like an addiction. But, really, I’m sure I could stop at any time…

Just thinking about this makes me want to go have a square. I think I will.

What’s In Your Wallet?

We all have plastic cards to carry around: IDs, credit cards, insurance cards, reward cards, and the all-important library card.

Working in the library I see all manner of wallets and contraptions for carrying these items.

Some people have managed to carry only a few cards at a time. Men, particularly, must watch the number of cards in their wallets because they usually carry them in their back pockets.

I have seen men, though, who pull out huge, bulging wallets. I think, “Was that really in your back pocket? How do you sit down?” As they walk away, I look to see if they walk with an uneven gait.

Women have purses. They can carry large wallets or multiple containers for all their plastic.

I have been known to fumble while finding the correct card in my little zip-up wallet.

But I’ll call my fumble a minor infraction. Some women have so many cards it takes them a lot of time to locate the correct plastic. It’s like dealing cards. I try not to be sarcastic, to let slip something like, “Poker? Aces are high.”

The worst I’ve ever encountered was a woman looking for her library card in a stack of other cards. She could not find it. I mentioned that I could look up her record using her ID. (The person behind her had begun to shuffle his feet impatiently).

“No,” she said, “I’m sure I can find my card. I know it’s here somewhere.”

Then she proceeded to pull out two more stacks of cards. I could not believe it.

“Oh, please,” I said. “I can use your ID. Really, I can.”

It took her a bit of time to find her ID. (The line behind her had begun to swell).

I looked up her record and checked out her books. She moved to the side of the counter to get herself organized while I helped the next patron in line.

“Oh, here it is,” she said. “I had it in my pocket all along.”

Good grief.

There must be a better way to organize our plastic.

Diets

I’d like to lose 5-10 pounds. Almost everyone I know would like to drop a few pounds.

Hence, the diet industry.

Believe me, working in a library you see new diets books come out regularly. Here are some diet books with numbers in the title: The 20/20 Diet, The 17 Day Diet, The 10 Day Detox Diet, The 4 Day Diet, and, The 8 Hour Diet. And that’s just a fraction of the titles.

I read French Women Don’t Get Fat. I gained weight while reading it. The author goes on and on about eating just a bit of high quality cheese or some tastes of especially good chocolate. She was so enthusiastic about it. I read the book while eating really good cheese and chocolate. I just missed the part about moderation.

Then I read Japanese Women Don’t Get Old or Fat. Seriously, this is the title. It came out one year after the French book. But I didn’t get into this so much because I’m not going to take the time to make homemade miso soup.

Recently, within one week, I heard near miraculous stories from two different friends. Both touting weight loss and improved health and wellbeing.

One family went vegan and had amazing changes in their lives. The man went off his blood pressure medications he had been on for years. Maybe I should be vegan?

Then I talk to Paleo/Whole 30 friends. They go off carbs and find they have a new lease on life. Pounds come off and they are as happy as clams. Wait, are clams on the Whole 30 or not?

I don’t get it. The vegan diet is pretty much opposite to the paleo diet. Yet, both sides are convinced that their path is best.

So I think the solution for me is to come up with my own diet plan. Maybe I could write a book about it and get it on the library shelves.

I can’t do a diet that says, “You can never, ever, for the rest of your life eat__________(fill in the blank)”.

I can’t do a diet that says, “For Phase One, you will only eat___________(fill in the blank).”

If I were allergic to something, ok. But I’m not, and I want a little freedom here.

I know the bottom line (which would be smaller after a successful diet). It’s to quit eating all the trash we eat in our culture and get some exercise. Maybe I’ll call mine the No-Trash Diet. The idea of clean eating has already been introduced, but I think the No-Trash Diet has a more forceful sound to it. It could be a new diet trend.

Flo’s No-Trash Diet.

I think I’ll start tomorrow.

Child-rearing Advice

From the moment she becomes pregnant, a woman receives advice on what to eat, what kind of labor and delivery is better, how to nurse, what diapers to use and for how long, what kind of childcare is appropriate, and what sort of education is best. The list goes on and on.

I remember those days.

Sometimes the advice is given straight out.

One lovely, Spring day I had my little girl in a stroller. It was beautiful outside. An old woman, whom I had never seen in my life, approached. She was wearing a coat, hat and gloves. She told me I should have a blanket around my baby, that my baby looked cold.

My first thought was, “Oh, no. Maybe she is cold. I hope I’m taking care of this child.” But, upon further reflection, my second thought was, “Back off, lady! You may be an old, cold woman, but my child is perfectly happy. It’s a beautiful day.”

At other times, the advice is not spoken, but there is a certain “look” given indicating that advice is definitely needed. This look implies that the person giving this look could obviously tell you how to do things, you poor dear.

One day I had to take all three children on errands. The first stop was a store with a crowded checkout line. They were lovely and patient. I had smiles all around. One woman even commented how well-behaved my children were. I felt a sense of pride at my excellent childrearing abilities.

The next stop was the post office with another long wait in line. The children’s patience had run out and they were tired. One began complaining and whining; the other two squirmed and wiggled. My abilities at distraction and discipline were not effective. We needed to go home.

There were no smiles around me now- only signs of disapproval. I got that “look”. I wanted to say, “You people should have seen us in the store we just came from! Those people were all impressed with me and these kids.”

Now that I am years away from those days, I try to remember them when I see wiggly, noisy young children. I try to make sure I give an understanding smile. And not a “look”. And I hope I never give advice unless it is pulled out of me reluctantly.