Month: November 2018

Timbit friendly…

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Winter is here.  It has arrived a month earlier than usual…then again, it’s Canada, so no…not really.  However, there is something that happens at this particular time of year which seems to affect the whole country.  Nope, not snowfall, although that does happen.  Lack of sleep?  Oh yes, with the time change “Spring Forward, Fall Back” (we are in the “fall back” an hour stage), it gets expectedly unexpectedly dark early.  (Ok, that was a weird way of phrasing that we know it’s gonna be dark earlier but we are still surprised when it happens.  Read it again.  It makes sense.)  All I’m saying is that it gets dark earlier and it actually seems to be dark all the time so we all seem super tired and sleepy.   Yes, it is a widespread epidemic, but that’s not the epidemic I am referring to.  When the biting winds of winter arrive it seems that everyone has a need to fill their bellies with:  TIMBITS!

Ok, this is definitely a Canadian illness.  It’s a wanton desire.  It’s inescapable.  It’s contagious.  You can go the whole summer without noshing on fried dough, but come the chill of winter your body flips on some invisible switch that makes you desire, nay, voraciously crave something yeasty and luxuriously covered in sugar.  Oh sure, donuts have their appeal, but there is something special about a small dough ball that you can pop into your mouth and devour in mere seconds.  It’s instant gratification!  It’s immediate satisfaction!  It’s a bite-sized piece of heaven.

Other areas of the world have their two-bite confectionary creations.  France is known for their petit fours and their macarons.  How about the Danish aebleskiver?  Then there are chocolatey two-bite brownies and flavourful mini cupcakes. Ok, I’m getting all snack-craving crazy.  You get the idea.  Little treats are good and yummy, but when the Canadian winter hits, we need fried food for sustenance.  Sweet is nice, but you need that deep-fried goodness to help you feel fuller, and happier, longer.

Ok, I am prejudiced about these little balls of deep fried joy.  Sometimes you don’t want to eat a WHOLE donut.  Sure, I love an apple fritter as much as the next person, but sometimes, your tastebuds crave a plethora of distinct flavours.  Sometimes you desire a gooey strawberry donut covered in sneeze-worthy icing (powdered) sugar.  Want chocolate?  Well there is Timbit made especially for you.  It’s your birthday!  Then there is the birthday Timbit covered in rainbow sprinkles.  There is a bite of heaven for everyone!  

If I really want to take this to next level, I really think Timbits could lead to world peace.  They come in a variety of colours and flavours so they are obviously not racist.  When people see Timbits they smile and are happy.  They don’t talk about suicide bombing or making war.  Timbits are all about making people happy.  There is always enough so no one feels left out.  They are affordable so there are no economic discrepancies between rich and poor as all can afford to purchase them.  Timbits bring out the philanthropist in all of us. 

Picture this scenario.  It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  The day has been laborious and monotonous.  People are cranky and hangry.  It’s dark outside (yeah, it’s Canada).  Suddenly, the wind whistles and howls inside the office as the front door blows open.  A colleague has entered, slightly disheveled due to the high winds, and with a precocious smile lifts a small box into the air.  The person magnanimously states (almost with a god-like booming voice) “I have brought Timbits.”  The carton is delivered into the lunchroom, and placed ceremoniously onto the counter.  And with an accompanying smirk of self-importance gleaming upon their face they have completed their glorious endeavour.  There is no one quite as special as The Deliverer of the Timbits.  Life has meaning again.

Around the office there are whispers of, “Timbits in the lunchroom.”  The Good News spreads to the far reaches.  Exhausted employees slowly get up and slink off quietly to the lunchroom to grab some little fried balls of sweet energy and euphoric happiness.  Words of thanks are heaped upon The Deliverer.  The outdoor darkness of the afternoon has been metamorphosised into a kaleidoscope of rainbow Timbit ecstasy.  The sugar-hit makes the group cheerful and friendly.  Another afternoon of dread has been avoided.  All hail the Timbit!

Ok, mayhap there is a wee bit of an exaggeration on my part.  Honestly, it’s not that far from the truth.  If you don’t believe me, walk into any office, any classroom, any study group, any hospital, any house of prayer, basically any room where there are a group of people milling about and present them with a lovely box of the Tim Hortons Party Pack containing 50 Timbits…various flavours, naturally.  Just the sight of the box will have their eyes begin to twinkle, their mouths begin to salivate, and their heart begin to race.  No, they aren’t rabid.  They are Timbit friendly.

You are beautiful…I love you

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I finally get it.  Oh, it took me several months to finally see what this particular group of people see daily when they look in a mirror and examine themselves.  The realization and comprehension took me by surprise, but I am so glad that I FINALLY GET IT!  Oh, I am talking about thin people looking at themselves and thinking they are fat.  WHAT?!

I reinvent my look every few years.  I am a confirmed shopaholic.  I LOVE buying clothes.  I love buying shoes.  I will venture into designer stores and I will frequent Goodwill.  I am not too choosy about where I buy, but I am choosy about what I buy.  I think my subconscious knows how much I enjoy cavorting in malls so once I have reached my allotted closets space (yes, I have commandeered more than one closet), my body suddenly transforms.  

Ok, it’s not sudden.  It’s more laboriously time consuming…like 6 months or a year, or two.  I will go from a svelte size 6 and balloon to a size 14. I have gone from being a weensy, boney size 4 to a plump and cuddly size 1X (I think that’s a nice way of saying size 18, I believe).  So, I have been all over the board with my body size (and all over the malls…lol).  

My most challenging mind game was learning to love my plus size body; all the bumps and lumps and squishiness of me.  And I did learn to love it… every big bit of it.  Even when my mother mocked and shamed me, I still loved the round cherub cheeks I had, and my breasts…OH WOW…full and quite glamorous.  Though I loved the Mrs. Claus version of me, my lungs were clambering for oxygen after walking up a flight of stairs.  So, it was time for me to start my journey to becoming a healthier me.  Not necessarily a non-fluffy me, but just a person who could walk and not get winded.  A person who could lift a toddler without her back going out.

I began with healthier eating.  Load up my plate with the colours of the rainbow…broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, strawberries, blueberries, eggplant, et. al.  You get the idea.  The bland whites and beiges were absent for a little while.  No bread.  No pasta.  No cookies.  No donuts.  I re-introduced those after I lost 40 lbs, but there were no longer any carb-fests that I had previously enjoyed.  Anyway, after shedding parts of me, I joined a gym.  (Technically, hubby Wiseguy signed us both up).  Well, after a couple of months of “healthy” eating AND three days a week at the gym (for an hour) I have a new-to-me amazing body!  I mean, my body is an incredible thing and it can do some amazing stuff!  

Before this “new” me, I couldn’t lift 2 lb weights without heaving and straining and now I can lift and hoist 40 lbs.  I can lift toddlers without breaking a sweat.  I can do squats like a champ…which means kidlets can be bounced on my lap and I no longer have to worry about getting a Charley Horse.  Amazing!  I am lookin’ goooooood!  I have rounded shoulders, thanks to my newly formed muscles.  My bat wings … non-existent!  My calves and thighs; toned and sinewy.  Look at me being a femme fatale version of Arnie (Arnold Schwarzenegger).  I’m feeling great and looking great!  Or am I?

I’ve been thinner now for about a year, but I started working out about 8 months ago.  Now when I look in the mirror I am finding faults with my body. My thighs only seem toned if I flex them.  The mushy flab around my belly is still wiggly and jiggly.  Where is the 6-pack I am supposed to have?  It’s obvious…I am fat.  Yup, that is what I see when I look in the mirror and see my reflection.  My butt (sorry, not into the big butt look for myself), but I just see cellulite and flab.  What happened?  I weigh 40 lbs less than I used to be so why do I feel and look fatter now?  Apparently, I am not alone with this bizarro way of thinking.

Phantom Fat.  It’s actually a thing. Basically, your mind still believes and subsequently sees the bigger you that you were.  So, after I lost weight I found I was still trying on large size clothes and would be surprised when they were too big.  Even now, I try on small clothes now and am surprised when they fit.  “Must be American version of small which is really like a real-size large,” is what my brain tells me.  

I am still surprised when people I haven’t seen in awhile tell me how great I look.  They ask me how I shed the pounds, which is easy to talk about.  What shocks me is how tiny they think I am.  I don’t see it.  I quickly change the topic because I feel like a fake and a liar.  

I will tell you that when I accepted the soft, pudgy me, I was happy and loving life.  Oh sure, I ate my feelings (food has always been my go-to comfort when life gets hectic).  Now, I worry when I have my latte and biscotti.  I worry when I skip a day going to the gym.  I worry about not fitting into the clothes I have purchased.  I worry about the food I eat thinking I’ll gain 50 lbs after one meal.  Who would’ve thought that losing weight and being healthy could become a mental hazard?  

I wasn’t going write about this, but I thought there might be someone out there having the same unrealistic thoughts and wondering if they were the only person having these crazy thoughts.  Well guess what?  There’s a bunch of us trying to overcome this weird way of dealing with something that is actually a great thing!   

So today I will stop judging myself and go back to my old mantra that I used when I was trying to love and accept my biggy, squishy me.  I will look at myself in that full length mirror and tell that wonderful person, “You are beautiful and I love you.”