Not-So-Super Bowl

Today is a perfect example of all that is wrong with social food pressures - The Super Bowl (dun, dun, duuuuuun...).

This annual salute to the end of the NFL season and funny commercials has ultimately become more about good tailgate food. And lots of it. In years past I have embraced this and have even gone so far as to color coordinate the snacks to match the opposing teams. But this year? I couldn't possibly care less about the teams who are playing and I'm trying to lose weight, so what's the point besides the commercials? About food. Doritos. Pizza. Pepsi. Mmmmmmm..... At least I don't drink beer, but it's still brutal.

We're a Packers/Broncos/49ers family and had hopes for all of them this year but when the 49ers were the last to fall a couple of weeks ago, all excitement and anticipation for the Super Bowl evaporated. My son, though, who has been gone the last two years serving a church mission in Mexico, wasn't having it with the thought that we wouldn't put out our usual feast to the football gods. He can get pretty much get anything he wants by saying, "Hey, remember I was gone for two years," or, "Wow, I haven't had/seen/done that for at least two years."

Even that didn't inspire me much, but in an effort to be a good mother, I asked him what foods he had to have that were absolutely essential for him to consider it Super Bowl Sunday and he came up with clam dip and chips, Little Smokies in BBQ sauce, and perhaps a BBQ. Occasionally after that he would mention something else but nothing he suggested was even remotely what one might consider a healthy food. But who could I blame? I had raised him on Cheetos as a dairy product.

As the game approached, I did try really hard to pick a team since no matter how lame the game, the TV WOULD be on. I liked the Giants because, well, I'm giant, but then Boston is my favorite city and I'm truly a patriot. But Tom Brady is married to a Brazilian supermodel - blech - and my husband and son tell me that the Patriot's coach is a cheating crook. Then again, New York's uniforms are uglier than New England's, and that's an important consideration.

In the end, I decided to go with the Giants because I decided I would allow myself to be giant during the game with all bets off on what I ate. So I bought the Smokies, made the clam dip (almost pure cream cheese - yum), and bought an extra large bag of chips. But that's all I could make myself do. I figured I was probably going to blog about the experience and I didn't really want to have to admit that I went face down in the candy bowl.

My husband picked up on my vibe and saved the day for everyone by making sure we had brats, guacamole and tortilla chips, M&M's, Cadbury eggs...I'll stop the list before I start licking my computer monitor. But (or as pertains to this - butt) he also made sure there were grilled, skinless chicken breasts, fresh pineapple cut up into bite-size pieces, and cut celery with fat-free ranch dip. I made a big pan of sugar-free orange jello with mandarin oranges (my diet drug of choice), so I pretty much ate like a queen. A queen on a diet. But a queen. At the very least, it was a meal befitting the Princess of Whales.

Do I feel deprived? Absolutely! Do I feel cheated? And how! Some things just aren't fair, and having so much great food associated with a non-holiday is almost a crime, but that's just how it is. I'm now living the quote "trade something good now for something better later" so I'm trying really hard to visualize saying hello to a flight attendant without adding, "Can I get an extender?" Or buying clothes in a "normal" store. Or maybe just even wearing the next-size-down clothes I have hanging in the closet.

Excuse me while I go have some fake ice cream on a stick for less than 100 calories. I deserve a treat. And as for the game? I still don't care. It's on right now and there have been some great commercials. The food is still surrounding me, but I'm okay. I just wish there were a Lombardi Trophy for me staying out of the candy bowl.

It really isn't fair...