Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

08 December 2011

Re-fatting for the Holidays

What Santa sees...

"Blah blah blah, the average person gains 7-10 lbs over the holiday season, blah blah blah."  

I mean, since everybody's doing it, why shouldn't I?


This isn't one of those "If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it, too" scenarios that your mother used against you when you were begging her to let you go to the Peter Frampton concert with your best friend, Shelby Miller, in the 8th grade (I may or may not still be bitter and holding a grudge).  It's more like, "Hey... let's all eat cheese, drink copious amounts of egg nog, and die young!  Woo hoooo!"

But as I'm gleefully eating more Brie and other assorted cheeses than any normal human should ever be able to eat and not die, in the back of my mind I'm thinking, "If everyone gains 7 to 10 lbs, would anyone reallyyyy notice if I packed on 15 to 20?"

Dear Little Fat Girl,

Yes.  Everyone would notice.


Your Ass


GOD how I love and hate the holidays!!

Buried deep within my DNA is the strong belief that once December 1st hits, it's time to eat.  If you do not bake enough cookies to feed a small third world country for an entire month, then you are a failure as a human being.  My childhood Decembers were filled with frosted sugar cookies in the shapes of animals and Christmas characters, gingerbread men covered with raisins and red hots, fudge, homemade gumdrops, and every other confection known to man.

"Who you callin' a HO?"

It was a happy time.

Christmas Day would begin with homemade sweet bread, morph into trays of meats, cheeses, olives, pickles, and even more cookies and candy, and end in rampant piggery with turkey, ham, pie, and all the trimmings.

I can remember lying on the couch, bloated and miserable, eating a final piece of pumpkin pie loaded with homemade whipped cream before I went to bed.

Dammit, that is the true meaning of Christmas.

Of course such an intense fraction of DNA cannot be denied, and I unwittingly passed it along to my children, some more so than others.

One year, when my boys were approximately 10, 11 and 13, I came down with a horrible bout of pneumonia the week before Christmas.  

I.  Was.  Sick.

I couldn't move off the couch.  Consequently, I did not get any baking done.

I did all my Christmas shopping at Walmart on December 23rd, with a fever of 102.

I was so sick that on one rainy trip to the grocery store, my kids managed to talk me in to bringing home a freaking cat that was stranded in the rain and looking pitiful.

I was so sick that I didn't put up a tree, make dinner, or do much more than hand my kids Walmart bags with their gifts inside.

And this is what I've heard ever since:

"Mom, remember the year you didn't bake cookies for Christmas?"


*Sidebar:  That same year, one of my students gave me a paper plate filled with homemade holiday cookies.  I came home from work and, since I was feeling like death, stuck the cookies on the oven and promptly forgot about them.  (We had an on-going ant problem so I would put things in the oven, since I rarely used it, as a temporary holding area.)

Long story short, in February I decided to cook something in the oven.  I turned it on and went about my business, until one of the boys shouted that flames were shooting out the back of it.

Lo and behold, the plate of Christmas cookies that I had brought home and forgotten about, had become a raging inferno inside my oven.

That's the other thing my kids remember about that Christmas:

"Remember when you almost caught the house on fire because you put the only Christmas cookies we had in the oven, and we didn't even get any of them?"

That's some stubborn, fatty, DNA.

So this year, two of my boys and my one and only girl (thank you, Kacey, for marrying her) will be here for the holidays.

All I can focus on is "What am I going to cook?"

As much as I can't wait to see my precious ones, I am probably equally excited about all the foood I'm going to make for them.

And all the cheese I'm going to eat.

Sad but true.

Merry Cheesemas!

No wait...

Merry Cookiemas!

That's not right...

Merry Fudgemas!  Merry  Nogmas!  Merry Boozemas!  


  1. Merry Boozemas. That's the one alright.

    So, what praytell do you do when you've actually been gaining weight this entire year and are up to about 20 lbs gained and this fucking eatitall holiday comes around? Hmmm, Dani? What do you do then?

    Fuck it, Imma gonna eatitall!! Non non nom.

  2. Bwahahahaha! Those Christmas cookies must have been like fossils by the time February rolled around, no wonder they caught fire so quickly!

    And, you have now made me crave brie, dammit. My name is Vesta, and I am a cheese-aholic.

  3. Dear Misty, You do what I've been doing lately: You pray that the one pair of pants you have that still fit you and seem to be growing along with your behind have 20 more lbs in them. Failing that, you resort to yoga pants (I'm too lazy for real pants) and eat, dammit!

    Vesta... I'm witchoo, mama. I'm dying to stuff little pieces of Brie into my hungry little mouth and mmmmmmmmmm...

  4. This may be the most hateful comment of the year, but I spent 12 hours in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, 5 hours in there the night before, and we grazed like fat little moo cows all day. I haven't been to the gym in over a month.

    I've. Lost. Weight.

    Clearly, as long as you run up and down stairs in apartment buildings all day and get scammed out of lunch by your coworkers, you can eat McDonalds french fries and chocolate dipped shortbread because there are magically no calories.

    Also, I have to bake for Christmas. I'm cheap and that's what people are getting as gifts.

  5. Yeah... I kind of hate you right now.

    Meanwhile, that's what people are getting from me, too. That, and dildos.

  6. Christmas [and all such family-based] events are about the food ... and the generations of loved ones who come to share the experience.

  7. I am ALL about the Christmas cookies, goodies, and this year...dildos. I AM on your Christmas list, right?
    We are supposed to eat this stuff during December so that our New Year's Resolutions always begin with "lose weight". It's tradition. It's required. It's practically a law.
    Merry Stuffyofacemas!

  8. Tis the season to wear elastic, fa la la la la!

  9. Oh, that post made me so hungry. And I want cookies. Lots of cookies.

  10. I am completely with you on this. December is the month for eating. I am generally eat a pretty healthy diet. I snack on fruits and vegetables and only have dessert once a week. But now it is December 8th and I have already made (and eaten) Brown Sugar pie, brown sugar cookies, frozen hot chocolate, salted caramels, and sausage balls.

  11. Dani, you make me snort! (in a good "coffee up the nose cuz I'm gigglin'way" not in a derisive kind of way)

  12. Kids never fail to always remember the most stupid shit, but if you're going to be making cookies anyway go ahead a send a few dozen my way! :)

  13. I am the laziest Christmas bitch ever. There will be no decorating at my house and this year I am only making one Christmas baked good and it's going to be f*cking beautiful, fattening, and tasty. That's right... BRIE!

    This year I have a workout spread sheet to keep me on track. By on track I mean it tells me how much I haven't done so I know how much I can not do next year before I reach critical mass. So far I'm 8 miles behind for the month and it's only the 9th. Go me! I'm not going to gain any damned weight this year though. Cheese is protein right? Cheese and processed meats it is then (until the day of the feasting then all bets are off).

  14. Oh my mmmmmmmmmm gawwwwww.... *drooool* I'm practically sitting in a puddle after reading that recipe. Mother of GOD, y'all.

    I think I'm going to have that instead of birthday cake.



I'm a total comment whore... Leave me a message after the beep. *pause* *pause* *pause* BEEP!