Shout out to ABC's Good Morning America

I have to give a big shout-out to ABC's Good Morning America for producing such an important and thoughtful piece on orthorexia. Claire Shipman reported this story and rather than provide a deep analysis here, I thought I'd just share the link so you can watch it yourself. It seems that orthorexia is gaining more attention from media and I'm "glad" to see that. I put "glad" in quotes because of course I wish media didn't have to report on this disorder because that would mean it didn't exist. But since that is not the case -- orthorexia does exist, and is probably much more common than we all might imagine -- I'm glad ABC shed light on the issue. Apparently the piece grew out of this Time magazine story, so a shout-out to Time reporter Bonnie Rochman as well.

Portions Schmortions

While you’ll never hear me yell, “Portion control, portion control!” on this blog or anywhere else, I do have something to say about a recent realization I’ve had with the first of those two words: portion. Or, to be grammatically correct: portions. What gives? Nursing. Or actually: no longer nursing.

As I’ve alluded to before, nursing made me hungrier than I think I’ve ever been in my entire life. Including when I had a hyperactive thyroid and ate pretty much all day long every day. It made me hungry in an animalistic way. (And when I was pumping, I actually felt quite like an animal: a cow, to be precise).

I remember one day meeting my mom (a.k.a., granny) at the park with Emily. As any good mommy/granny will do, she brought me a roast beef sub that admittedly was the biggest sub I’ve ever seen (and the best one in the city). It was so big that I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish it. Until I did.

When we were packing up to leave the park, my mom asked if I’d put the second half of my sandwich in my diaper bag because she didn’t want mommy-brain-over-here to forget to put it in the fridge when I got home.

I smiled. And gulped.

“I finished it.”

“You did?!?! Maggie, that was the biggest sandwich I’ve ever seen!”

“I know,” I said proudly. “I was hungry!”

My mom looked impressed. And I’m quite certain that when I got home from the park I ate dessert.

For some reason, when I was nursing Emily – especially during the first few months of her life – I would sit down to meals wondering what I could have for dessert because I was always quite confident that the meal itself would not satisfy my cave-woman appetite. I ordered the heartiest things on menus all over the city, and followed up many meals with dessert. I never. Ever. Felt overly full.

Just so we’re all clear, after 39 weeks of being “nausry,” as my husband and I called it – nauseous but hungry – I enjoyed every single bite of food I consumed while I was nursing my little pumpkin. The fact that I could eat so much food every day was utterly enjoyable. Particularly after wondering for 39 weeks if any food other than ice cream would ever appeal to me again.

I knew at some point this last-supper style of eating would come to an end, and it eventually did. A few weeks ago, when I stopped the very glamorous job of pumping milk for my baby, I realized that I was still sitting down to meals with the anticipation that the food in front of me wouldn’t fill me up. I was finishing every morsel on my plate BECAUSE IT WAS THERE. After all, I was used to eating everything offered to me so it had become habit. The only problem was, my body no longer needed this much food.

After a number of meals that left me feeling uncomfortably full, I realized I was not honoring my fullness. I think I was also eating a lot faster than usual because I was in the “eat-while-you-can” mentality that any new mother understands. The problem was that my fullness just couldn’t keep pace with the rate at which I was shoving food into my mouth in an effort to eat quickly before needing to perform another gravity-defying diaper change.

Queue light bulb flashing above my head. And a thought cloud fading in.

"Slow Down," it read.

After eating dinner one night after work a few weeks ago and feeling way too full, I realized I had to take some time for myself in the food department. I decided that even if my child was demanding my attention three seconds after I finally sat down to eat, I needed to slow down and tune into the food I was putting into my body.

Doing so has been a wonderful experience, albeit challenging at times. I’ve been re-tuning into my body, trying hard to listen to my fullness and honor it. I don’t always get it right, but more often than not, I’m stopping just at that point of satiety when I’m no longer hungry and before I become over-full.

The picture above was taken at one of my favorite burger places: The Stand. I actually stopped a wee bit short on this meal, as I got hungry again earlier than I would have liked. But it’s all been a great reminder to me that my body’s needs change from time to time, and if I’m tuned in she’ll let me know exactly what she needs.

And just so you know: even the most “expert” intuitive eating experts will tell you (if they are honest) – that this is a journey, and every now and then due to circumstances beyond our control, we get out of touch with ourselves. The beauty is that as often as we get out of tune, we can adjust a few chords and get ourselves right back on track. And no, I don’t mean with a diet.

Close Your Eyes

First off, I am so sorry for not blogging for over a month! I can't believe it's been that long, but the time-stamp on my last post says Jan. 25, so I guess somehow February flew by without me blogging. Yikes. Sorry about that.

Now that I'm back at work full time doing the juggle, my blogging has clearly slowed down, but stick with me -- I hope to ramp back up starting now. I have tons of posts in my head, and I am committed to finding the time to get them out on "paper" and up on this site as often as I can. Which brings me to the title of this post.

Have you ever tried closing your eyes when you eat? It sounds a little silly and actually doing this at home -- and certainly in public -- might feel bizarre, but I recommend trying it.

Every time my husband and I eat sushi, Jeremy closes his eyes. No, not throughout the entire meal, but during his savoring of each piece of sushi. I have to admit, this practice has sometimes embarrassed me. Sushi chefs have looked at him wondering if he's okay, and I've wondered where to focus my attention as I'm eating with my eyes wide open while he's having quite an experience in his mouth with his eyes closed.

Because Jeremy always looks euphoric with his eyes closed, sushi dancing around in his mouth, I had tried it many times before, but usually opened my eyes too quickly out of self consciousness from doing this in a public place (with sushi chefs mere feet away). I don't know why it made me feel so funny, but it did.

Well, this past month -- on Valentine's Weekend, I did it. Finally. For real. We were eating dinner at Koi, a hip, happening high-end restaurant in L.A. that has two of my most favorite dishes in the city: creamy rock shrimp tempura and spicy tuna on crispy rice. As we were eating these dishes during an early Valentine's celebration, no one was hovering over us and the tastes in my mouth were so overwhelmingly delicious that I couldn't help it: I had to close my eyes.

The food was just too delicious not to close my eyes. Does that make sense? It's as if taking in any distractions or sensations other than what I was taking in through my mouth would have diminished my experience. And that, I tell you, is true pleasure in eating. Ever since then, I've tried closing my eyes for bites here and there just so I could fully be present to the food in my mouth. It's a wonderful way to connect with yourself while you're eating, and tune into the experience fully.

All I can say is: I highly recommend it. Whenever you're eating a special meal (or any meal, for that matter), try closing your eyes. Don't worry about whether or not someone catches you. I promise, when you experience your food with your eyes closed, eventually you won't care what, if anything, others are thinking about you. In fact, through the experience you may discover an entirely new relationship with your food.

So there you go. I'm back online blogging. Here's a well-deserved shout-out to my hubby for teaching me this wonderful lesson.

**Note: the picture above is not from Koi (we forgot to take photos there). It's a picture of the spicy crunchy shrimp tempura roll at Hirosuke in Encino**