That was Dan's Birthday Dinner yesterday.  And it was spectacular. I hadn't realized just how much I'd been missing pizza until I made and tasted this 100% OP Pizza.  Ok, maybe not 100% - I added those 4 mushrooms on mine and the 10 thin slices of peppers on Dan's.  So sue me.  

Normally, pizza is Dan's krypnonite, so I offered to try making these.  

I knew it was going to require grated cauliflower, egg beaters, and some serious effing magic so it didn't taste like ass.  I mean seriously.  Have you seen a cauliflower?  Something that ugly simply is not permitted to become something as delicious as pizza, right?  The only reason I was even willing to try it was because I'd already tried the "mashed cauliflower" and decided that it was pretty heavenly, despite consisting of one of the fartiest foods on the planet.  

So I set out to find out how to make a farty, delicious pizza.  A group of girls on plan that I'm friendly with on facebook suggested I look up the recipe on a blog called: 

So I did. Forever, these wonderful ladies will now be in my heart, for they  have blessed me with the wonder that is cheese and tomato on a crispy cheesy crust.  They are truly angels.  Water guzzling, shake drinking,  Medifast cookie making angels.  Thank you,  girls.  

So, since the Pizza was a hit, I'm going to try a recipe from the same blog today for fish using light ranch dressing and a bit of parmesan cheese. Again, it's totally OP and it looks like even a chimp could make it.  Since my cooking skills rival any good chimp's I think I'll be ok.  

We did try to grill some tuna earlier in the week and it wasn't so special.  I was not a fan.  But mostly, my adventures with new foods have been winners.  Plus, I'm finding that as we rotate foods for dinner, this plan is maybe even a little easier this time around.  Before, since I'm not a cook, I stuck to a handful of simple things: grilled steaks, chicken boob in the new wave, and tofu with veggies.  I admit, sometimes that gets boring, but I was ok with it.  I didn't realize how much boredom can make any diet harder.  Dan's made it clear that he really needs more variety to stay happy, so I've been venturing out into the scary world of cooking.  And wouldn't you know it if he was right again.  Eating lots of different stuff is more fun, and makes me happier to be on plan (Gawd, I hate when he's right)! 

I even used my fancy food processor!!!  Got it for our wedding, and love it, but was terrified to use it.  But man, oh, man alive was it fun to stick those cauliflower thingers in there and just decimate them with the grating blade! Wooo! Watch them go.  Yeah.  So, yup.  Got over my deep seated fear of the food processor this weekend.  I feel like a grown up! 

I will admit that I woke up still thinking of the blessed, blessed pizza I had.  I know it's not normal to be in love with a cauliflower pizza. But I'm down 10 pounds (ok, I was down 10 pounds yesterday, this morning I somehow went up, but I know that's just one of those weird fluctuations, carry on, nothing to see here, move along....). I am determined to keep losing.  So just leave me and my cauliflower pizza alone, would you?  We're not hurting anyone! 

I leave you know with a song that I know The Partridge Family really wrote for cauliflower pizza.  

Dan feels that way about chicken. And since I value the peace and tranquility in my home, I'm making a concerted effort to make something more than chicken breasts for dinner. That's really hard, though, when you're not a cook.  I mean, I can throw some chicken boob on the Nuwave, and sprinkle some adobo on there just like the next guy.  

But actually cook?  I haven't a clue. I never know how to prepare things, and I hate touching raw meat and fish. It makes me want to jump right up out of my skin.  I don't know when things are done, so I over cook them. I don't know what oils to use, so I burn my pans.  I didn't even own a cutting board until I met Dan. Before Dan (Maybe I should make that BD since so much of my life was BD) my oven had barely been used, except to bake up the errant "break and bake" cookies my kid likes.  

So the idea of cooking fish regularly is a little scary.  But (and this is a big but....one even bigger than my own ample derriere)  we all know if you eat fish you get to eat more, and any time you get to eat more on this plan you tend to want to take that opportunity and run with it.  A friend suggested scallops, which was kind of terrifying since I've never eaten one, let alone cooked one.  Plus, I was pretty sure those don't taste great out of a microwave - something that is always a strike against any potential food source.  

Still, I took a leap of faith and I bought them.  I followed my friend's instructions, which were the same as the instructions on Freshdirect, where I bought them.  Pat them dry, and put them in a hot skillet with a little olive oil and smashed garlic.  I must confess that it wasn't hard, although they didn't come out perfect. It's clear that I'm not going to be cooking in Kitchen Stadium anytime soon, but dinner was still edible.   They definitely did not taste like ass, which is always a plus. 

They were kind of sweet.  But?  Holy mother of shrinkage.  I bought 1.13 pounds of those bad boys and they magically shrunk right down in the skillet to only 7 ounces.  That meant Dan and I had to each have half a portion, and then I added some...(drumroll) chicken to top us off.  

I got on yesterday and the thing vacillated between the weight I was on Wednesday and some other small amount up.  We're talking 2/10s of a pound here or there.  This morning it went up and down around the same number - 217. So what do I do?  I'll tell you what I do.  I then get on and off the thing over and over until I see a number that doesn't completely freak me the eff out.   I look like I'm doing some weird naked bathroom dance number.  

It's naked step aerobics! I should put out a video.  Not. 

I finally settled on 216.8 and that's what I've logged.  I'm now losing teeny tiny bits each day, and that's normal.  I'm going to try not to think about how Dan has lost over 10 pounds this first week, and how he's going to continue to shuck off this weight in leaps and bounds while I take my tiny little baby steps towards goal.  Men! 

My mother has suggested we immediately hide all the knives and other sharp pointy objects in the house until this is all done.  She knows me so well. 

I get overwhelmed thinking about how much more I have to go.  Over 75 pounds.  I essentially have to lose an 8 year old.  That's quite disturbing. When I look in the mirror, all I see is hugeness.  I see enormity.  I see failure.  And I have to struggle to see past all of that, and to see the tiny improvement, to focus on the tiny goals, and the tiny achievements.  I stayed on plan the entire week.  I'm drinking black coffee.  I'm walking the dog when I can.  I'm making changes, and slowly my body responds. 

I woke up this morning with "Baby Steps" bouncing around my head. It's from the movie "What About Bob".  It's hilarious.  But here? It's also instructive:   

 

So off I go to work.  Taking little baby steps to the door, baby steps to the car, baby steps to my office.  I have to remember, that I'm achieving small goals on my way to the big one, and that I've got to be at peace with that if I'm going to succeed.  

Baby steps, people.  Apply to your own life.  Rinse, repeat.  

Even the dog is in on it.  She's walking me in the park like a champ. That's not a mistake. She's totally walking me....I can hardly keep up. She trots ahead and pauses to wait for me frequently.   I took her yesterday to Brookdale Park, which is a big beautiful park in the middle of Suburban North Jersey. It's a great place for a dog.  You can really find some peace as you walk the tree lined paths, sniff the grass and pee on stuff.  And the dog seems to enjoy those things too.  

She walked with me yesterday, stopping ahead of me and looking back to make sure I wasn't going to keel over from time to time.  It's really sad how hard just a simple thing like walking has become.  That can't happen again. It's atrocious.  I took Pickles into the dog park to play a little. I figured it would be her chance to run with some new dogs, since she certainly wasn't going to get to run with me.  One day, just one day, I'll put on those crazy Ceasar Millan skates and zoom through the park with Pickles galloping along at my side:

 

But until I get into shape, if the dog wants to run, she's going to have to have another incentive, like a dog park, or zombies chasing her.  

Anyway, even Pickles was all "No, this is wrong. We're here to walk. So you're gonna walk".  She spent a few minutes sniffing random butts in the enclosed dog area, and then came padding up to me, with a pleading look in her eye.  When I said "You want to go already?" She reared up, and placed her paws on my shoulders, as if to so "Yes, dummy.  I want to WALK".  

So, with the dog's encouragement, off we went to continue our walk amongst the trees.  If that's not team work, I'm not sure what is.  

And, just a little side note- the dog was switched to a No Carb diet just a few weeks ago too.  Apparently dogs aren't supposed to subsist on pizza crust and kibble. Who knew?  I thought this was their natural food in the wild.  But no.  She was having allergic reactions.  So now the dog happily eats a raw beef patty each morning and each night.  She's on plan! 

Another example of the new found team work in my life - The other day, while driving, I raised one of those Poland Spring flavored seltzers to my lips.  These things have no sugar or sweeteners, they just magically have the flavor of berries.  It's a little sip of magic each time. Immediately my son said "Mom! Don't.  Your diet!"  He thought it was soda.  My son has been told (and believes) that all soda is bad for you because it's full of sugar.  I explained to him that it was ok, this is seltzer and he settled down.  I asked him "Does it matter to you that Mom is on a diet?"  and he said it did.  Interesting.  Even my 8 year old wants me to succeed.  

Of course, Dan does too.   We're making meals together now.  We're planning ahead.  I make him his soup in a thermos in the morning so it's ready to grab and go.  He's kindly agreeing to eat whatever the hell I decide to cook for dinner, even though it might not be his favorite. He wants this to be easy for me.  And I want this to be easy for him.  Having read his blog entries these past few days, I have even more strength to do this and to do it right.  He's doing this because he said he would.  One of the things I love most about him, besides his back hair, is his integrity.  I want to support him through this, and his integrity is giving me strength. It's making me want to do the same.  I want to do this because I said I would, just like him.  And I want to do this because it supports him, and this means so much to him.  

So, yeah.  Team work rocks.  I'm thrilled that the whole family is in on this.  My family has my back, and I have theirs.  This is how it should be, and I feel like this is really something I can do.  With them on my side, the only hurdle I have to contend with is....Me.  And I can handle Me.  Me's a b*tch, but I've been handling her for years!