The soccer sidelines are a great place to be a voyeur. 

I was sitting near a mom who was offering her kid snacks out of her purse. No judgement on giving snacks of any kind much less the cheerio dust and goldfish lining purse bottoms, because- hello- mom life. 

This little girl was happily munching away when her friend wanted to get in on the snack action. 

The mom happily handed over some goods to the friend and her daughter was, well, less than pleased. 

The mom looked her daughter straight in the eyes with that tone and said you've had two of these, three of that and I think you've had enough while continuing to pass the crunchy treasure onto their friend. 

The message here was pretty clear.

I know better than you. Not a good idea to trust yourself. 

And just like that, her ability to trust herself starts eroding away one (not so) innocent comment at a time. 

How do we know what's best for other people when it...

Fresh off the island yesterday, we ended up with a 52 count on turtles we saw last week. 

While vacuuming way too much sand out of empty suitcases this morning, I was thinking about these turtles. 

Slow. 

Not rushed. 

Not afraid to hide when startled.  

Especially like to emerge after the rain. 

Love to eat fresh flowers. 

I wonder if we double counted some turtles, because, these babies are slow. But they do get places, because we never saw a turtle in the same spot every day. 

As you welcome Spring today, maybe you want to be more like the turtle, slow and on island time. No rush. Or maybe the last two years of the pandemic have felt like turtle time and you’re ready to toss your shell. 

Either way, know that you’re moving places, even if it feels like you’re standing still on turtle/island time. 

Rest assured things are happening inside your shell. 

If you need help emerging from...

Standing on tip toes to make sure Alexa could hear him, my son shouted, "Alexa! Please play "Stretchy Pants"! 

The girls, my mom and I laughed as we tossed together the final ingredients for our pumpkin bake. We all laughed and sang along with Carrie Underwood. 

Listen here, but you'll get the idea with this verse:

Just when I thought my days of belting out “Let It Go” from Disney’s Frozen were long gone, our one year old has fallen prey to this cult classic. Nearly everyone you know has at least part of, if not all of, this song memorized. Just in case you need a refresher….

Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don’t care
What they’re going to say

Aaaaaand we’re back to 2013 just like that. It’s fitting to sing this song around this time of year and all year, really. Mind Body Monday's anti-diet journey in a nutshell is all about Letting. It. Go.
Letting go of society’s unrealistic ideals of beauty and thinness.
Letting go of trying to control your body size (we’re animals, after all).
Letting go of worrying about what other people think about your choices around food and body.
Letting go of trying to control your food. 

When you’ve been on this journey for a...

My sister and I used to love dumping our candy loot on the ground and organize it into categories right after Halloween. My sister would tear through her candy, but not me. I'd eat a few pieces and save the rest to eat over time so I could torture her with a Reese's in the dark days of February. 

As a kid, I also loved meeting my friend on her bike so we could ride into town to the local pharmacy where I would buy my favorite candy. My friend and I would swap sweets and laughs on Saturday mornings. 

Going Trick or Treating with our kids last night reminded me that sweets and candy were a part of my childhood. My favorites, Twizzlers and Reese's, still bring a little thrill with the first bite. But there was a period of time during my dieting days where I wouldn't go near candy. Too much sugar, too many "empty" calories, and not even close to a "clean" food. 

If you're staring a pile of leftover candy in the face this morning and feeling nervous instead of...

A friend of mine was raving about her looks-like-I-was-in-the-kitchen all day cranberry chicken that only takes 15 minutes to make. Cranberry sauce, a stick of butter, and some spices get mixed on the stovetop and then poured over the chicken. A magical 30 minutes later, your gourmet chicken comes out of the oven and your kids are ready to sign you up for Top Chef.  

She had me at the 15 minute prep time, but I let her go on about how it tastes so good and smells so delicious (insert gesticulating arms). But, she lamented quietly, it’s not very healthy with that stick of butter. 

I thought about what “health” really meant to her (and maybe you) at that moment.

Health didn’t mean having a meal on the table for her family to enjoy each other’s company and conversation.
Health didn’t mean gaining back minutes or hours of food prep time so that she had more time to do what she needed/wanted that night.
Health didn’t mean eating...

The cicada's evening chorus filled the dark night air as I opened the wash machine door for what seemed like the fiftieth time today. At least I had insect company as I stared down the two dozen plus freshly washed masks. 

If you’re anything like me, you almost forgot about wearing masks for the past two months of summer. Luckily, we were largely outdoors and with fully vaccinated friends or family so everyday didn’t feel like a maskmergency. It was my own joyful mask amnesia or masknesia as I like to say. My partial, not total, memory loss of daily mask wearing felt blissful. 

But, here we are, Delta variant on the rise or peaking in many areas of the country, school looming around the corner, breakthrough infections and cooler fall and winter temperatures on the horizon. 

My heart sank a little as I assessed my mask mother load. Don’t get me wrong, I love masks. If there was a community badge offered for civilians willing to remind people to put on...