Skinny Lazy Nerds

If there’s one thing, ONE THING, that makes me foam at the mouth, it’s when people insist that “X” makes you fat, when “X” is anything other than “consume more calories than you expend”.

This is the other thing. via overflowingbrain.com.

Video games make us fat.

TV makes us fat.

Working on a computer all day makes us fat.

These days the F-word seems to apply to anyone who doesn’t have a thigh gap.

F-word them.

Skinny Lazy Nerds

Being lazy does not make you fat. The world is full of skinny, lazy people. I am one of them. I was 80 pounds soaking wet through most of high school.

I was also a band nerd with helmet hair.

High school was not kind.

Obesity seems to be the only disease where it’s still socially acceptable to blame the ill.

stevie-wonder
We know what *this guy* did too much of when he was a teenager, amiright?

We are only beginning to understand the real complexity of the triggers for this disease. Why are there some people who only have to look at ice cream to gain weight? Once you are obese, it’s very, very hard to lose weight– it seems like you are literally fighting a constant battle against your body’s survival mechanisms.

So why are we getting worse?

If there’s one thing we can trust humanity to do, it’s figure out how to make a buck from the suffering of others.

murica1

Zach and Miri Make a Smoothie

The American diet industry goes back to at least the 1950s when the first weight loss drink appeared on the market. Prior to that point, food science had not matured to the point where we were able to manipulate our food at the chemical level (beyond burning the meatloaf), so weight loss fads focused on concealing rubber garments.

Something something society women something dissolving flesh wait what? via abcnews.com
Something something society women reducing flesh wait what? via abcnews.com

My favorite obesity conspiracy theory is that used to be cheap corn creates high fructose corn syrup, which gets added to everything and makes us fat. It turns out that this may not be the entire problem.

It’s not just corn that’s cheap: wheat and soy are both commodity crops that are frequently over-produced and/or receive subsidies. Removing those subsidies won’t have a substantial effect because the prices will still stay low, because economics.

In other words, it’s not the farmers who stand to gain from over production, but the processed food industry. As long as the wheat in our Wheat Thins is stupid cheap to for Nabisco to buy, there is plenty of budget left for clever marketing!

7mrf2

We’re damned from the moment we open our eyes, because we interact so heavily with media during the course of the day that our brains are saturated with the tantalizing deliciousness of Cool Ranch Doritos from birth to age 99. By the time we set foot in the grocery store, we’re already well-programmed to self-destruct.

Kale is the new black

The experts will tell you “Oh just shop the outside of the store.” These experts have never gone grocery shopping a DAY IN THEIR LIVES.

I think the stores are getting wise to this strategy because I haven’t been into a grocery store yet where the bakery was in the middle bit.

Regardless, as soon as I walk in, my cart is making a beeline through the asparagus and to the cakes.

BEE-BOOP ROBOT DAD NEEDS CAKE

Also, juice boxes are not near the organic kale, and you can bet which one the kids will give me grief over when they find it in their lunch boxes.

In fact, kids are probably the real leading cause of obesity in this country.

More times than I can count I have eaten leftover chicken nuggets because the child was done and I can’t waste good Chik-fil-a.

47437757

It’s only recently, as a direct result of a few of my children somehow surviving long enough despite my constant efforts to screw them up, that I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel. I can say from personal experience it gets better.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they start to appreciate real food.

In our house Mrs. Nostrikethat and I agree that the best thing we can do for our kids to help make them successful is to make sure they’ve got a good mix of fat, fiber, carbs, and veggies on their plates so they can wander off in the middle of dinner to go play.

As I have written before, feeding kids (and especially toddlers) is an exercise in the absurd. They never like what you make, and it seems like you just get the kitchen cleaned up when they’ve digested the tiny amount of food they just ate and are back for more. I’m no internet expert here, either.

The kid wants peanut butter and jelly for dinner again? Fine.

The 6 year old is having food sensory issues again today? Fine, eat Cheerios.

I’m even using JIF, because I’m a choosy mom. Dad. Whatever.

BEE-BOOP ROBOT DAD BUYS WHAT HE IS PROGRAMMED TO BUY

Taking a stand (while sitting)

Let’s review the forces in play. In this corner, we have:

  • The multi-billion dollar processed food industry and their advertising
  • The grocery stores where I buy my food to live
  • My own body which, as I type this, is salivating over the prospect of potato chips

Versus

  • Two weak-willed adults trying to make the best food shopping choices for their kids while acknowledging it’s nearly impossible to feed a three year old broccoli without committing horrific violence on someone
  • Kale

My response?

783v5

Parents, give it your best shot.

Take your kids to the playground when you can.

Try to put something green on the plate when you can.

Maybe ease up on the soda and drink a little more water yourself.

There are countless ways we can be bad at being parents, and no expert is going to tell you to just muddle through because that doesn’t sell a lot of books.

Worst case scenario, your kid grows up and writes stories with funny pictures in them on the Internet.

If I have to be outraged by something, I’m outraged by the fact that in the United States today there are more than 16 million children living in poverty.

I am outraged that there are 50,000 kids in our nation’s capital that may not eat on snow days.

How much iPad someone else’s kid plays? Not so much. Those stakes aren’t very high.

Mmmm… steak.

BEE BOOP ROBOT DAD WANTS OUTBACK FOR DINNER

Dangit.

“Mommy! Daddy has lost it”

Summer, you're doing it wrong
Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone. Yay.

When Chaos Reigns

I have always been convinced that my parents were crazy. I mentioned it to my dad at one point, how I thought he had a loose grip on reality and all.

“It’s contagious. You get it from your children.”

I don’t think I ever really appreciated those words.

Until The Day and the Night of Maximum Chaos.

Or as most people call it, Tuesday.

12:30AM-5:30AM

Awoken through the night at roughly 45 minute intervals by (in order):

  • 11-year old complaining he can’t sleep
  • 11 YO again (still can’t sleep. Now neither can we.)
  • The increasingly more urgent click click clickclickclickclickclick of dog nails on hardwood, indicating the Grandma Dog was about to poop on the carpet (decided it was easier to clean it up in the morning). Grandma Dog just don’t care, and neither do we.
  • Our youngest son (Because it’s time to get up. In Athens.)
  • Youngest son again, crying. (Because his older brother hit him. Because he climbed into his older brother’s top bunk and kicked his older brother. This is the classic case of what we parents in the Rationalist School call A self-correcting problem).

6:30-7:30AM

Wife (who is also sick) sucks it up, gets up, drives oldest son to school because he missed the bus. Because he couldn’t sleep. He might have mentioned that.

I pull the pillow over my head and go back to sleep.

9:00AM

I am awoken by ear-splitting silence. Sick Wife has gotten everyone out the door and, no doubt, gone out to do some Krav Maga while pretending the bag is my head under a pillow.

7dvjq

9:30-10:00AM

Suck down a cup of coffee while answering a few work emails. The day is looking up!

10:00-10:40AM

Take a glorious shower without anyone trying to hold an incoherent, dinosaur-centric conversation with me. Then clean the downstairs out of guilt for totally shirking morning kid-wrangling duties. Surprised to note that with no one in the house I can thoroughly clean and disinfect half the house in 20 minutes. Left vacuum cleaner wheel-marks in the downstairs carpet extra obvious on purpose, because nothing says “I cleaned” like vacuum tracks on a carpet.

Reward myself with a second cup of coffee.

11:00-12:00PM

Get an un-interrupted hour of concentrated work in. The only sounds are the clacking of fingers on keyboard, the slurping of coffee, and the occasional gentle hiss of New Dog letting one rip. Heaven on earth.

12:00PM-3:00PM

Sick Wife returns home with Sick 11YO Son via Middle School Health Room and Hurricane 3 Year Old. She notices that I cleaned.

7dw70

Spend next three hours attempting to concentrate on work, mostly failing because every time I start to get back on track someone wants to talk about dinosaurs.

3:00 – 4:10PM

Oldest son is screaming in pain and crying due to sinus pressure. Hit “ENT” on the speed dial (entry 4 on my “Favorites” list). Luck into emergency Ear Nose Throat doctor appointment (we’re on the guest list). Rock-paper-scissors with Sick Wife over who gets car pool with 6 kids for swim team and who gets the crying 11 YO. I win, or possibly lose.  Haul ass to ENT, who injects child with ground koala penises directly into sinus cavities.

Screaming subsides.

7dwdj

4:10PM- 5:10PM

Get back from ENT. Pick up lovely daughter for her swim team practice at the other pool across town. Drive there in traffic, drop her off, drive back home.

5:10-5:45PM

Stop at the grocery store to pick up garlic bread for dinner and more ground koala dongs from the pharmacy. Stand in line behind white-haired old lady trying to get her prescription filled for her Lady Problems. Convince her to try ground koala nobs instead.

5:45-6:10PM

Loop  back to the house to drop off ground koala junk and garlic bread. Drive back across town to pick up daughter from swim practice so we can go straight to an after school group project that the nine-year old group leader (a.k.a. the most Popular Boy in 4th Grade) decided to call today for a project that is due tomorrow for reasons not entirely clear to any adult.

6:10-6:20PM

Arrive at pool to discover a Wardrobe Crisis in Progress. While waiting in the reception area, nine-year-old daughter’s friend comes out of the women’s locker room.

“Um, she can’t come out because she doesn’t have a shirt and she’s crying.”

“What do you mean, ‘She doesn’t have a shirt?'”

She forgot to pack a shirt, and she’s going to a boy’s house.”

The unsaid DUH was left hanging in the air.

“Please tell her to do the best she can and hurry up.”

Moments pass. Friend emerges again.

“She’s really crying. She’s afraid you are going to take her to the boy’s house without her shirt.”

Despite clear instructions to pack swim bag and snack because we were going straight to Popular Boy’s house for after school project, Mistakes Were Made and essential items of clothing were omitted. Briefly considered telling my daughter that the boy in her group wouldn’t mind at all if she showed up without a shirt, but decided to save that advice for a few more years.

Parental embarrassment, like fine wine, gets better with age.

6:20-6:40 PM

Arrive at Popular Boy’s house via changing at our house. No dinner. Expecting group project to be nearly done considering it started at 6. Arrive to find 3 other 4th graders performing Team PowerPoint by standing behind the 4th kid watching her type.

Slowly.

Adult direction seems to be minimal. Popular Boy’s Mom appears to be distracted with a crisis involving Popular Boy’s Sister, and possibly also wardrobe and another, different, Popular Boy.

Project scope is poorly defined.

In other words, just like every project I’ve worked on professionally for the last 15 years. I study the situation and come to two conclusions:

  1. I am really hungry.
  2. For the life of me I can’t tell why Popular Boy is so Popular. He’s a doofy 9 year old with hair that looks like it was cut by a Doberman Pincher with a seizure disorder. My 38 year streak of not understanding women is intact.

6:40-7:00 PM

Return home and eat dinner by myself.Try hard to ignore the alarm bells telling me everything will not be all right. Get a call from my daughter that, in mid project, they have to get up and go to strange-friend’s-house-who’s-family-we-don’t-know because the crisis involving Popular Boy’s Mom and Popular Boy’s Sister has escalated to the point where Popular Boy’s Mom has to leave the house and go get Popular Boy’s Sister from wherever she is across town because somethingsomethingMY LIFE IS RUINED.

Feel a brief flash of pity for Popular Boy’s Mom. Break out into a cold sweat with the realization that I am on the threshold of having my own Popular Boy’s Older Sister.

circleoflife

7:01 – 9:30PM

Decide that this fustercluck has fustered long enough. Deliver dinner to my daughter at strange-friend’s-house-who’s-family-we-don’t-know. Introduce myself to strange-friend’s-dad. Wonder what strange-friend’s-dad is doing married to a girl half his age who’s wearing jeans with sequins on the butt. Discover girl is the nanny. Make a mental note to look into hiring a nanny. Notice continued lack of adult supervision. Barge in, take charge of project, manage to narrowly avoid doing entire project for children and instead only do most of it. I am now also extremely knowledgeable about trailblazing computer scientist Mark Dean.

9:31 PM

Discharge duties as Project Dad after completing 50 PowerPoint slides, which is kind of like STEM education in that you are using technology to bore the crap out of someone, instead of doing it the old fashioned, analog way. Drive home. Crack open the box o’wine. Complain to Sick Wife about day.

“How did our life get to be so crazy?”

We live in a fairly dense area. All of this driving was within a 5 mile radius from the house. I managed to spend enough time in the car that I could have been standing in the Atlantic Ocean had I driven straight east (and had it not been February). I suppose with four kids, complexity is normal– it’s almost mathematically certain.

“How did our life get to be so crazy?”

“It’s contagious. You get it from your children.”