Ailing Over Atkins

Last May I decided to make a change in my life and try to lose some lbs.

The decision was motivated by several friends who all went through the stomach bypass operation. On the outside, I’m so happy for them, but on the inside I HATE them! Of course, not for real, but it’s just not fair. Getting that surgery is like winning the dieting lottery. The weight comes off so easy! I’m so chicken about surgeries, that there is no way I could ever go thru with something like that (I’ll go into my issues with blood and hospitals later). Plus I went to the doctor and I don’t even qualify.

What took my mind off the horrifying image of my formerly chubby comadres now being able to not only fit in a bathing suit, but also looking good in one, was the thought of eating sausage patties and bacon for breakfast every morning. And steak and eggs.

Yup. I’m talking Atkins.

A few years back I lost 40 pounds on this diet, err, I mean “lifestyle”. I was doing so good – I was a born again bread hater and proud of it. It was February and there I was, proudly wearing my shirt tucked IN. I was working on my current assignment for our entertainment guide: conducting a chocolate taste test for our Valentine’s Day issue. I thought I had my carb cravings under control, but as soon as i bit into that first bite of milk chocolate (which I wasn’t even supposed to do), I could feel the sleek, sexy pleasure of the creamy texture tingling throughout my body. I’m glad Patrick wasn’t there, he would have been jealous!

Next thing I know I’m at home that night eating fried chicken, bowls of cereal and pan pizza. That was the end of the Atkins experiment for me. No one in the family ever discussed it in fear of making me cry. It sooo sucks when you gain weight back because it makes you feel like such a failure.

Last year I tried Atkins again. I lasted two days before I broke down crying on the couch. I mean, all-out sobbing, like we-just-lost-our-house-in-a-fire kind of sobbing. Actually i think the fact that “Aunt Flo” was on her way helped amplify my emotions. Patrick came to comfort me.

“What’s wrong, how can I help?”, he asked.

“French bread,” I pleaded with tears streaming. “Please get me French bread.”

Poor Patrick went out and got me some French bread to make me feel better. I felt so bad I called my friend Laurie and she cussed me out for going on that diet again.

But this time it’s different. I just got tired of feeling yucky about myself. I hate exercise, counting calories or fat grams. But I do take a multivitamin every day. The good news is I’m down 30 pounds! The bad news is I think I’m ready to fall off the wagon.

Last week, the kids walked in on me while i was standing in front of the fridge (door open), with my head thrown back while I held the chocolate syrup bottle over my mouth and squeezed out the last drop. My eyes met with the kids as they watched in disbelief. Instead of pulling myself together and making some sort of rational excuse, I held their stare and picked up the can of whipped cream with my free hand and filled up my mouth with an intense, fluffy swirl.

I felt so dirty. I must have looked like Otis the drunk from The Andy Griffith Show except with chocolate instead of booze.

This morning my sister was returning from a trip to Hawaii. I picked my sister up from the airport, and to show my love for her, I decided to eat carbs in her honor. Maya went with me and I had chicken fried steak, plus my usual Atkins-happy bacon. Did I mention the Texas toast?
We were at the Big Apple and they serve Texas toast that is a huge slice of bread, toasted and buttered on both sides. Maya (who is super skinny) told me she loves the Texas toast so much, she was saving hers for last.

I cleaned my plate. I noticed she hadn’t touched her Texas toast yet. I could not keep my eye off of it! I kept thinking how she better hurry and eat it because it was getting cold and it would lose all it’s yummy qualities. Next thing I know I’m trying to con her into trading her Texas toast for my cold chewy leftover piece of bacon. What a horrible mommy I am!

She grabbed that damn toast like a hungry third world refugee child, polished it off until there was just a small bite left. THEN she offered it to me. Like I’m really into the scrappy leftovers. Can you believe that?

How rude.
How demeaning.
How tasty!

Anyways, say a prayer to help me hang on, I need it! I’ve gone down several sizes and want to keep going. Carbs are evil, and they are calling me at every meal…

Love & light,


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Kathy Cano-Murillo

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Hi, I’m Kathy, The Crafty Chica! My specialty is creative motivation. I’m an artist, author, and speaker and this is where I share my craft tutorials, artwork, articles, books, product lines, and workshops!

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