faulker053

Here's what she had to eat. Take a look. Then write down your assessment and tell me what you think. You know, as if you were the nutritionist working on helping her improve her diet and her relationship with food. 8:30-9:00 Bread and jam, 2 slices Freshly juiced red grape and berry juice, ~8 oz. Coffee with whole milk ------------------------------------------------ Vanilla yogurt with fresh peaches ------------------------------------------------ Semolina cake with plum topping ------------------------------------------------ 1 fried egg Bread and jam 12:30 PM Medium gelato, ~2:00 PM Wine samples and bread sticks 3:30 PM ½ a thick cheese and tomato sandwich, on white Italian bread ½ a thick pesto and roasted veggie sandwich, same bread ---------------------------------------------------- Wine tasting, approximately 6 oz, and a few bread sticks 7:45 PM Cheese samples, approximately 1-2 oz. 8:00 PM Bread, 2 slices Large vegetable salad (enough for 2 or 3 people) with olive oil and...

Read first, then decide. Today I saw a 12 yr old girl, I’ll call Gabrielle, whose weight was off the charts. She was referred by her doctor, supported by her concerned parents. And here's what I told her, because I believe it to be true. Her place on the weight chart is likely the right place—for her. Since the age of 2 yrs she has paralleled this curve at just above the 95 th percentile, (in spite of being only 5 ft tall, much shorter than average), resulting in a very high BMI. She is an active, healthy girl—more active than most thin girls and boys I see, with no apparent suggestion of health issues. She eats well—appropriate portions, as I'd expect for her need, a healthy balance of foods, including those I'd call "junk" food, and she eats the same when she is alone and when with others. In other words, she’s got a healthy relationship with food. Most importantly, she feels good about herself, and the last thing I wanted to do was add mental health is...

The first time I traveled to Italy I was 19. I recall marveling at marble fountains, being seduced by sculpture and impressed by massive stone architectural creations while touring through Rome and Florence. But perhaps as memorable as Michelangelo’s larger than life David ( http://bit.ly/nyY9rx ), with which I fell in love, was the smooth and creamy gelato. Twice daily I would indulge in such intense flavors as nicciolo (hazlenut) and espresso, midday and late evening.  In fact, I would purchase a scoop regardless of the hour, whenever I had an excuse to pass through the famous square the gelateria occupied. I had purchased it fearing I’d never, ever, see gelato again. It was now or never , as gelato doesn’t travel well in luggage. This, by the way, was the early 1980’s. During my recent trip, however, I was older and (somewhat) wiser. I had gelato only twice in 7 days. (Okay, I did share some bites of my husband’s on a third occasion, I admit, but does tasting just a bite on thos...

Anger. All I could feel was their anger. Their perhaps valuable messages got muffled, but I was left with my tail between my legs. That was my experience of reading a couple of blogs I respect and frequent often, one with a focus on eating disorder recovery, one on size acceptance of the obese. No doubt this post of mine may provoke more anger—that is not my intent. And while these two topics may seem vastly different, I hope to show that they have many commonalities. Laura's Soap Box I have learned a lot from Laura’s Soap Box:  http://www.laurassoapbox.net It has, more than anything, strengthened my stance that we have no time to waste, when it comes to recovery; that the ever-hopeful practitioners that patiently wait while engaging in therapy often do so for way too long. And especially for the young anorexics and those new to their eating disorder behaviors and thoughts, those with a narrow window of time for weight restoration for growth and development, for preventing hard-w...

Piedmont: Great Wine, Great Challenges I’m a snob. I admit it. When it comes to food, it’s got to taste good. Because I intend to really taste it. To enjoy it. To savor it. Every bite of it. But Thursday, after many long, hot hours biking the grueling hills of the Piedmont region of Italy, we were hungry. Really hungry. The hills took us much longer than expected; we had no idea what it really means to be in shape for riding hills!  And the snacks we carried? We downed those within the first couple of hours. So we rolled into a tiny town, known for its hazelnut production. Now give me a dessert with hazelnuts and chocolate and I would’ve been just fine. But that didn’t happen—no bakeries in sight. But it didn’t take us long to identify the only eating establishment around. Think retro, stale, cigarette-smoke-filled air luncheonette before it turned quaint and chic. In our broken Italian we ordered the only Panini that sounded acceptable. Oh, and a salad.  What comes to your m...