Food Fiend

I have serious issues with food. I don’t really know why this is. I’ve tried quite hard to let go of being a controlling perfectionist when it comes to many things, but I am still stuck on the food thing.

I used to be obsessed with schedules and planning. An organized and clean house were inordinately important to me. This is one area (of many) where kids (and FlyLady) have been very good for me. Schedules are thrown out of whack in a moment’s notice. The best-laid plans are overturned in an instant. Even though I’m an expert housecleaner, I’m so outnumbered that cleanliness only happens when everyone is out of the house, but then I’m out of the house, too.

And what’s the point of the house, then?

In all honesty, every single day of the weak, several major catastrophes happen, even when I’m organized and running ahead of schedule. Someone barfs or pours a blueberry smoothie over their head or spills it on the couch, or the dog dumps over the recycling bin, or BooBoo gets glue in her hair, or the L-man puts lotion in his eye or Miss M stubs her toe and if there’s none of that, there’s always time for an unexpected blowout Poop-o-rama.

It’s the glamorous life I’m living.

But back to the food.

So, tonight the brain surgeon had a craving for some childhood concoction called kraut runtz. I cannot find this no matter how hard I Google, but, the researcher in me did find this, which appears to be about the same recipe.

Now, I know I should be grateful. The brain surgeon used veggie meat (salty and processed, but a major step up) and probably more veggies than most would. But then he bought these, which have listed as the top three ingredients:
- Enriched flour (ugh)
- Sugar (ugh)
- Partially hydrogenated vegetable oil (soybean or cottonseed)

…and pretty much nothing else.

It’s like a heart attack in a box. The brain surgeon, like most Americans, was like, “So, it has a little fat in it. It’s not that bad.”



Um, okay.

Anyway, to make the concoction, you take the dough, fill it with some hamburger and cabbage mixture and bake it.

So gross I could barely look at it – basically Hamburger Helper (I can’t even stand to link that) in a cheap roll.

But what’s worse, he bought – I dunno – 4 or 5 boxes of that crappy roll mix and then used corn oil to mix it with. He thought that might be a step up from butter or margarine and he was right there. Although corn oil has a bit more saturated fat than the better oils, it does have a decent amount of omega 6 fatty acids. Nonetheless, if you’re trying to eat a nutrient rich diet or like Dr. Fuhrman does, it doesn’t really fit in.

Okay, but when I think about it, so what? Why do I care what he eats? Really?

Part is because, as the father of my children, he has a profound influence on them. Although he is WAY WAY healthier than most people are I know, he still maintains a steady intake of processed foods.

I almost never see the brain surgeon eat raw fruits and veggies. Salads are small when they happen. He prefers his fruit canned. He drinks processed orange juice. Processed. Processed. Processed.

But his peers eat much worse than he does, so he’s ahead of the crowd and doesn’t understand why I complain.

Anyway, tonight I caused a fight because I just could not shut up. Looking at 8 huge mounds of that trash food was making my blood boil. I don’t want the kids eating that stuff. I just don’t. And they did.

But I also don’t want to fight about food. Most people do not care. Obesity, cancer, diabetes and heart disease are skyrocketing because people don’t worry about what they eat – except to lose weight.

I rather wish I didn’t care either. But when I see my precious children filling the limited space in their tiny tummies with better-than-most-crap-but-still-crap on a Thursday night, I get a little nutty.

Because it’s really hard. When he brings cookies in the house, we all want them. When he brings soft, squishy (processed beyond any shred of fiber remnants), we all have a slice.

AND I'm a hypocrite. I had Del Taco last week, no matter how I justify it.

It's just that we agreed we wouldn’t say anything at parties and support guilt-free enjoyment of cake. We agreed to limit eating out and to try to pick healthful restaurants when we do. We agreed to keep the processed crap out of the house. We agreed to set an example for the kids.

So I’m annoyed when I stand alone for his and the children’s health.

I’m such a food fiend.

Toodles.