bearing blog


bear – ing n 1  the manner in which one comports oneself;  2  the act, power, or time of bringing forth offspring or fruit; 3 a machine part in which another part turns [a journal ~];  pl comprehension of one’s position, environment, or situation;   5  the act of moving while supporting the weight of something [the ~ of the cross].


  • Teens/tweens and sleep.

    This isn’t new material for me, but something to think about anyway:

     As adolescents grow, their sleep cycles change (Carskadon, 1999).  During adolescence teens tend to stay up later and sleep later. Some of these changes are explained behaviorally…But some of the changes are due to intrinsic, biological changes. Even more seriously, researchers, doctors, and teachers are realizing that circadian rhythms and school schedules are out of synch (Carskadon, 1999). The result is excessive sleepiness, inferior academic performance, and even accidents.

    Pioneering research has begun to focus on circadian rhythms and circadian rhythm disorders …Measurable by biological events, like melatonin, circadian rhythms control the timing of rapid eye movement sleep (REM). Research is beginning to show that circadian rhythms are developmental and change with growth from childhood, to adolescence and adulthood.

    One of the most fundamental benefits of homeschooling is that it leaves families freer to choose their own schedules.  That includes sleep schedules.  Most days of the week, I could, if I chose, arrange things so that the children and I could sleep very late or take naps in the middle of the day — at least in theory.  We have no buses to catch, after all.  

    Kids generally don’t get enough sleep when they have to keep to a school schedule that starts early in the morning and leaves no room for a nap:

    Early survey research at Stanford University, showed that as pubescent girls matured they preferred evening to morning schedules… In other words, as the girls’ bodies changed so did their sleep cycles. This is more than staying up late to have fun. Changing sleep cycles are biologically based. Furthermore, parent surveys and teen sleep diaries indicate that during the school year, teens average about 2 hours/per night less sleep than in the summer. The effect is cumulative. So losing 2 hours sleep each night adds up to a total of 10 hours lost sleep by the end of the week.

    As adolescents’ bodies change, they stay up later but still show afternoon dips in alertness. Previously believed to be a sleep pattern of younger children, who once took naps in school, this “siesta” effect is pronounced even into later adolescence. Changing circadian rhythms of adolescent bodies and early school schedules are out of sync. 

    Looking back at my own late adolescence, especially my first experiences with setting my own schedule in college (my freshman year, of course, but before that I attended a summer credit-earning residential program for high school students)  — I vividly remember how quickly I (and many of the others my age) re-adopted the afternoon nap that hadn’t been possible since kindergarten.  Often, after returning from classes, I’d pass out on my bunk and not get up till the dining hall was about to open.

    Looking specifically at my preadolescent son — he is 11 — I could let him sleep as long as he wished almost every morning, and let him set his own schedule for schoolwork most of the time.  He’s proven himself responsible and capable of plowing through his daily to-do list with little supervision, and it is obvious that he has developed the ability both to self-teach and to know when it’s time to ask for help learning something.

    Typically, though, I haven’t given him total sleep/work freedom.  There are a few pressures that work against the “everybody can sleep as much as they need to” model, at least in our family.  The challenge is in finding the balance.

    (1) The rest of us may not have to be out the door early in the morning, but Dad does.  If a teen sleeps in late, he misses time with his father (or whichever parent is the breadwinner) that he could otherwise be having.  Of course, he could get more by staying up late — but many families prioritize early bedtimes because it gives Mom and Dad a block of time without interruptions.  

    (2) I like there to be a time in my day when I’m “done” with school.  I get a feeling of satisfaction when everybody has cleared out of the schoolroom early enough that I can straighten it up and leave it  in the late afternoon.  

    I realize that a mother’s schedule is not meant to conform to outside-world expectations.  But deep down I like the illusion of having something less like a vocation to which I give myself fully in my my every moment, and more like a JOB, because JOBS eventually have a quitting time, after which I can crack open a beer and put my feet up and chat with my husband about his day.

    (3) A fairly predictable school schedule is the tool that helps me give time and attention to each child over the course of the day.   This is a big deal.  I have to have enough time in the morning, and enough time in the afternoon, especially to work one-on-one with my five-year-old and my eight-year-old.  (Thank God my five-year-old learned to read precociously early, because that is one less time-intensive activity I need to work on with her.)  We have a rule around here:  “You may not interrupt me if I am teaching someone younger than you.”  If my oldest were completely free to set his own schedule, it would be trickier for him to work with mine.  

    Still, the daily schedule may not be optimized; perhaps I should re-evaluate it with tween-sleep as a high priority.

    (4) I try to do a couple of school subjects, as well as lunch, together as a family.  This means calling my older kid away from his own work — or his bed — and bringing him “in touch” with the rest of the children.  

    (5) We aren’t totally isolated from the outside world and its schedules.  There’s Sunday morning Mass, for one thing — and if we sleep in and go to late Mass, there’s just so much less of the day left to play.  Two days a week we co-school with another family, and that means getting up early (at least when it’s our turn to drive and car-pool) so we can start early enough to get the work done and get home to Dad.  When doctor’s appointments and such need to happen, first thing in the morning seems best because it interrupts our day the least.  

    (6) There is pressure to teach conformity with the outside world.  Someday he’s going to have a job, and it might make him get up in the morning and keep a traditional workday schedule, right?  

    In theory, I reject the “but he’ll have to learn it eventually, so we have to work on it now” philosophy.  Most lessons can wait for developmental readiness most of the time, and there is much more natural motivation to learn when the natural need arises.  Still, all homeschoolers (I think) have to make decisions like this all the time.  Even though as homeschoolers, our children don’t have to jump through the same hoops as all those “normal” people, when they are adults they will be expected to act like “normal” people some of the time, and we want to prepare them to be able to  conform by choice when it’s in their best interest.  

    Sooner or later most people will need the skill to arrange sleep schedules in order to meet somebody else’s demands.  The question is, do they need practice with this more than they need… well… sleep?

    It’s yet another are where we must decide how best to strike the balance among the natural needs of each individual living in the family, all with one eye to the sometimes unreasonable but often unavoidable demands of the outside world.  This is never a simple question, and parents encounter it and answer it — not always easily, and not always willingly — again… and again… and again.


  • A MrsDarwin review.

    MrsDarwin reviews a new book about chastity for adolescents and young adults.

    In my days as a young unmarried Catholic, I often suffered through chastity talks or had dating manuals pressed on me. The Protestant dating manuals (or, more accurately, not-dating, since apparently dating is right out in those circles, to be replaced by the nebulous concept of "courtship") were painfully earnest in their descriptions of hypothetical couples who were keeping their relationships 99.44% pure by following strict rules of behavior. Chastity talks were even more painful because you had to be there in person, squirming in your folding chair and wishing the floor would swallow you as the speaker hemmed and hawed, or, even worse, was wildly enthusiastic for Purity! There seemed to be no happy medium between  either rigid guidelines that seemed designed to minimize contact between a couple, or hazy exhortations to purity that gave one no practical guidance in the matter of a relationship rooted in reality.

    The book is How Far Can We Go? A Catholic Guide to Sex and Dating, by Brett Salkeld and Leah Perrault.

    …One thing I really appreciate here is that Salkeld and Perrault have a respect for their young audience, and don't treat the question "How far can we go?" as an attempt to find out how much whoopie one can get away with, but an honest query about what is right and appropriate at any point in a relationship. (I snickered out loud at their description of a youth group leader who answers this question from a young couple by saying, "I'll let you in on a little secret. Your relationship will do much better if, instead, you ask yourselves how pure you can be." If you haven't heard twaddle like that, you haven't been around the Authentically Catholic! youth scene much.) They emphasize from the start that their model of dating "presumes that those who use it are sincerely trying to live holy lives. If you're hoping to find loopholes so you can get away with as much as possible and still say you're following Catholic rules, this model isn't for you."

    Just what is this model? It relies on honestly answering the question "How much of myself does God want me to give to this other person?"

    I detest (detest!) Catholic twaddle even more than ordinary secular twaddle, and (unfortunately) there's probably more twaddle in Catholic material aimed at youth and young adults than in Catholic material aimed at young children.  

    So far the only anti-twaddle approach I had imagined was going to be to start reading Flannery O'Connor for bedtime stories (I might skip the "people being crushed under farm equipment" parts until they're older) but I submit that this could be an unbalanced approach.

    So I'm interested in adding this book to my library — because material that doesn't treat young people as people – people with the intent to live a life of integrity, but not one in a bubble — is not worth having, and this one sounds like a decent alternative.  I'll tell you what I think of it later.

  • Real work.

    Given a plastic toy "workbench" by a distant relative for one's second birthday, complete with plastic hammer and plastic saw and plastic wrench and an array of sound effects that ring out when one pounds the plastic pegs or cranks the plastic bolt or saws the plastic wood in the plastic slot —

    0202121015-00

    — obviously, it is much more interesting and worthwhile to locate the real recessed screws that hold it together, and then toddle off to find Mommy's real Phillips-head screwdriver so you can take the thing apart.

    Wouldn't you?


  • A theory of chewing-out frequency.

    Jennifer Fulwiler has a decent bit in NCR today called "Why My Big Family Is Not Overpopulating The Earth."  Personally, I have always liked Simcha's writing on her huge green family.

    I have a theory that the frequency at which you get chewed out for the carbon footprint of your children increases exponentially by the number of kids:  

    𝝓(n) = 𝝓1 ek(x,y)n

    where 𝝓(n) is the frequency of being chewed out for having n children, 𝝓1 is the frequency of being chewed out for having 1 child, and the growth constant k depends on where you live.  

    (The value of k is larger in San Francisco than in Peoria. Let's be charitable; maybe if you spent all your time in San Francisco, you'd probably think the world had too many people too.)

     So, in many places, one to three kids hardly raises an eyebrow.   At four kids, I only get a small fraction of the negative comments that a mother of five would have, i.e., 1/ek(Minneapolis).  

    Anyway, I often appeal to diversity.  "It takes all sizes of families to make a healthy, sustainable population distribution!" I say cheerfully.    

    I don't generally show them pictures of bell curves, although I'm tempted to.


  • Morning link: Marriage “dissolution” by consent.

    Darwin links to some very good blogging by Monseigneur Charles Pope of the Archdiocese of Washington, laying out the principles of Catholic doctrine that are relevant to a very difficult and sad marriage case. Darwi says about it,

    I've been consistently impressed with Msgr. Charles Pope's contributions over at the Archdiocese of Washington blog. He's one of those priest bloggers who brings a strongly pastoral sensibility to his writing without ever compromising the necessity of presenting the truth as it is. 

    His post yesterday, responding to a Washington Post human interest story about a woman who supposedly "learns the true meaning of 'in sickness and in health'" by divorcing her now-disabled husband in order to remarry (while promising to continue to care for the disabled husband), is a great example of this. 

    Discussion on DarwinCatholic is interesting and worth reading, delving into questions of how heavily consent should be weighed in various legal matters.   Like Darwin, I'm impressed by the Monseigneur's blogging.   


  • Hey girl.

    A year or two ago I found out through FB that several women who had been high school classmates, and whom I hadn't seen or spoken to since graduation, were homeschooling their kids.  We had a few brief exchanges, and it was fun to discover that we had that in common, especially in the cases where we hadn't had much in common at all when we were in high school.

    That's a little preamble to pointing out this Tumblr site that Anne H, who went to high school with me, put together.  Have fun reading Homeschool Ryan Gosling.

    Tumblr_lyjaf5rNRu1rotea0o1_500



  • Knowing what I know now: how to choose a habit.

    On the post about reinforcing habits for life, Christine asks in the comments:

           “Do you think these exercises – habit listing and making steps a few at a time – could work for someone in the weight loss phase as well as it does for your weight maintenance phase? I haven’t started eating habits work but have a stellar exercise habit in place since November. Mostly I stress eat so I would probably start with a few habits to begin that relate to those weaknesses. Maybe you would say of course. . . or maybe it is too slow an approach for someone who has 40 lbs to lose. I am going to reread your journey of weight loss soon. But knowing what you know about yourself now, might you have taken this approach from the start? Thanks.”

    Knowing what I know about myself now…. What do I know now that I didn’t know then?

       – that the habit of exercise would not cause me to lose weight on its own, but would give me confidence to change my other habits, which in turn would give me more confidence in my physical training
      – that I would learn not to fear normal hunger, even to embrace it
      – that my husband was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to help me reinforce my new habits, if only I would not give up on them
      – that success is easier and more rewarding when it is measured primarily by behavior (did I do what I planned today, or not?) or performance (how many minutes did I run today?) than when it is measured by numbers on a scale or measuring tape or clothing tag
     – but that the numbers on the scale (and other objective measures of health and fitness) were and are still helpful in selecting behaviors to measure myself against. If I succeed at adopting a new habit, that is real success, but if the habit does not improve or maintain my health, I know I should add or substitute a different one
      – that I would be motivated to work on many habits at once by consistent weight loss, but that maintenance would require me to take them only a few at a time
      – that I could make permanent (or, realistically, indefinite) changes more readily than I could make temporary ones.

    Christine, the “right” answer to the question is probably “One permanent habit at a time is definitely the best way to go for losing weight.” But I would be lying if I said that is how I did it when I went through my forty-pound weight loss. I did that in about six months, primarily by counting and tracking total calories and preplanning my day’s menus — the guiding principle being “Have whatever I want in whatever combination seems right, as long as I keep the daily calories under such-and-such.” I did the calorie-tracking thing because I knew that limiting calories would make me hungry, and I had recently had an epiphany of sorts that, having tried all manner of other diets that promised I would not have to be hungry, I was ready to try being hungry for a change.

    (Double meaning absolutely intended.)

    And it did not take long for me to realize that in order to meet those calorie goals, I had to develop certain behaviors. I remember that one of the first new behaviors I tried was toting my midmorning snack around with me, because I was nervous that I would get hungry while I was out, and that this would require me to eat something not on my plan. I discovered that if I had the snack with me, knowing I could have it at any time, I felt so much less fearful and less inclined to eat in order to *prevent* hunger. Anyway, the truth is that I did a lot of my weight loss using a not-very-sustainable behavior (calorie tracking), but that along the way I learned about the importance of sustainable ones. I am not sure I could have found it so useful had I not been losing weight so quickly that the weight loss itself was exciting and motivating.

    Then again, maybe I should not be so dismissive about the calorie tracking. Perhaps the daily calorie total is a little bit like the numbers on the scale that I mentioned above: a secondary, objective measurement against which the usefulness of behaviors and habits can be evaluated (provided that you have the time and inclination to do it — and by the way, it isn’t something that needs to be done every day).

    In other words, success can be measured by asking the question, “have I strengthened my desired habit(s) today or not?” But the habits themselves can be measured against the question, “Has this habit resulted in physical improvement — has my performance improved? is my weight trending the way I want it to? am I bringing my caloric intake closer to the number I want it to be, or did this habit make it easier to hit the calorie goal?”

    So I guess if I had it to do over again (! Let’s hope not) I would still count and track calories, but I think I would distance my sense of success a little bit more from the calorie total. Success means reinforcing good, permanent habits. Tracking calories, like stepping on the scale, is a way to find out if the habits are good — not a way to find out if *I* am good.  

    + + +

    As for you and your situation, Christine, the first thing I want to say is WAY TO GO on the exercise. I know it sounds a little bit like silly cheerleading, but this is exactly what I did — got the confidence to change my eating habits only after having established a working exercise habit. I am a real believer in the power of physical strength to transform itself into personal strength.  

    The second thing I want to suggest is to try imagining yourself in the future, “cured” of whatever unhealthy eating behaviors you wish you were liberated from. What does that look like? What is the key difference? For me, I knew I ate too much at meals and generally thought too much about food; the terminology that I still feel summed up my problem behavior was “gluttony,” an inordinate attachment to food.* I selected my habits with an eye towards beating that tendency into submission by facing my fear of hunger.

    You have identified (to me) “stress eating” as a problem behavior. Can you imagine yourself as a person who doesn’t do that anymore? What does it look like? Have you got other ways of coping with stress in that imaginary future? Have you, when you are not stressed, prepared your environment (e.g. by removing comfort foods from the places where you typically stress-eat) so that, when you become stressed, it is easy to avoid falling into stress eating? Have you, when you are not stressed, set clear and objective boundaries for yourself (such as set times and places for eating and not eating) so that, even when you are stressed, you can detour around the food supply and find other ways to cope? Have you reduced the frequency of stress events to reduce the number of temptations? Imagine that permanent future as clearly as you can.

    Then make a list of behaviors that you can experiment with, starting with one. I really think you can do any sort of thing, but I suggest that you start with something that is clear and objective and that can be practiced proactively and at least daily. *The more often you find opportunities to practice each habit, the faster it can become second nature.*

      The thing about stress eating is that stress does not necessarily happen to us daily. The first habit you try probably shouldn’t be something like “When I am stressed, I will do such and such instead of eating” because that means you have to wait until you are stressed to practice it, and that is kind of the worst time to try something new. Instead, it should be something that you practice daily in order to develop the habit, knowing that the real test of the habit will be when the stress arrives.

    Let me give you an example. I never really suffered *much* from stress eating or emotional eating, with one exception: when my husband would go on a business trip and leave me with the kids for a few days, I would feel lonely and sorry for myself and would tend to order pizza (“for the kids,” har har) and eat an entire medium pizza by myself, chewing sullenly while zoning out in front of the Internet. This happened roughly once a month. Not frequently enough to develop a “habit” of “when Mark is out of town I eat the same amount I usually eat, not a whole medium pizza at one sitting.” I could make a *plan* to do this, but a plan is far more easily derailed by temptation than is a habit.

    The *habit* that counteracts this very destructive behavior — along with other destructive behaviors — is a daily habit of portion control at dinner. The habit is defined very clearly: My dinner has to fit on a plate of a certain size. So every day for a long time I emphasized the habit of filling my 8-1/2 inch dinner plate, once, and stopping when the plate was empty. I would have had a few weeks of this behavior under my belt before it would be “tested” by the next spousal business trip. Then, knowing that I wanted to reinforce the habit, I would have had a few choices. I could skip pizza night (although the children expected it). I could order pizza, although I would not need to order as much of it. I could plan to eat a plateful of pizza and no more, which would meet the standards of my new rule and would count as success. I could get a salad and put the salad on half my plate, filling the rest of it with pizza, which would probably feel better. I could order a sandwich and coleslaw and chips instead of pizza, since that would fit pretty well on the plate and look nice. Any of these would look like “success” according to my defined habit. But the point is, that the habit was defined and practiced many, many times outside the stress situation, and then it was strong enough to carry me into the stress situation and out the other side.  

    How to tell, then, whether the one-plate habit is a good habit for me? Well — a good test would have been to find out if, indeed, I managed to stick to it even when stressed by my husband’s business trip. Indeed, this habit survived the business trip, and many others. (Later on, I added another relevant habit, that of partitioning my daily dinner plate so it was at least fifty percent vegetables, which also cut down on the loneliness-induced pizza consumption. It did result in a lot of loneliness-induced Brussels sprouts consumption, but that is rather less destructive.)

    So to sum up: start with a habit that seems a good candidate for a *permanent* habit. Make it one that is clearly and objectively defined, and one that you can practice at least every day, whether you are stressed or not. But make it one that somehow counteracts one of the behaviors that you identify as a problem behavior for you.  

    How does that sound?

    *[Editing note.  Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.  I  touch on what I’m talking about a little more clearly partway through this post.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]



  • Handwriting worksheet maker — online.

    These look pretty cool. You can use it to make custom-text worksheets in print, cursive, and D'nealian.  If you have a color printer, so much the better, but it looked fine to me in black and white.

    H/t to Christy P. for passing the link on to me.


  • Microposting.

    Boy, I just haven't had it in me to make many posts lately.  I'm going to try to break out of the rut by posting some shorter, less edited thoughts in the next few days.  If you are friends with me on FB, expect some duplication here and there.


  • I take it back, that on-off habits thing.

    All right, I said I was going to handle weight maintenance in a certain way, and I'm officially going back on my word.  

    + + +

    So when I first got near my goal weight, you may remember, I was going to chart my weight on a little chart that Mark made for me modeled after a statistical process control chart.  Cue the theramin music as we go back, back in time to early 2009

    6a00d8341c50d953ef010536e9ef4d970b-800wi

    Mark made up the chart, and the "rules" at the top.  

    It's like this:  I am supposed to begin doing something to bring my weight back to the middle whenever any of the conditions described in the rules are met.  I cannot return to normal behavior until the running average of five measurements in a row crosses the midline again.

    This is great, except that I have not gotten around to defining "normal behavior," nor the positive and negative types of "doing something."  Right now "normal behavior" is "more or less eat what I want" and "doing something" is "eat less than I want."  (I have only slipped into the land of underweight-must-eat-more once.)

    Yes, that was the plan.  Watch the weight wiggle back and forth between the control limits, and if it creeps up too far, add "habits" until it creeps back down again.

    After many months of frustrated struggling at an average weight a few pounds higher than my target, I am now officially renouncing this strategy.

    It looks too much like "going on a diet" and "going off a diet" and "going on a diet again."  It messes with my head.  

    On the surface it seemed like a good idea:  toggle habits on and off, to turn the balance one way or another, and keep the weight under control just exactly as if I were a manufacturing process.  But I, unlike a collection of heat exchangers and reactors, have a psychology, and you know what?  It kind of sucks to tell myself, "Well, I won't have any wine, or desserts, until I get five weight readings in a row below such-and-such a weight."  It makes me feel deprived and dejected, and do you know what?  Once I got the five weight readings in a row, and toggled my "habits" back to "maintenance level," the weight did not stay down.   I was not aware of it, but I must have been overreacting in the other direction:  indulging to pay myself back for the deprivation.

    This is not the way I want to do things.

    And anyway, the terminology should have been a clue.  Hello — "toggle" habits on and off?  If you do that with a behavior, it isn't a habit!  I don't want to be in an endless cycle of deprivation and indulgence.  That's what I tried to give up.  

    I want sustainable living at a sustainable weight.  

    + + +

    So, right around Thanksgiving, I abandoned that approach (though I'm still making the weight chart, and it's still important, as you will see.)  And remarkably, as soon as I did, my weight returned down to the target level, and I've been maintaining it with much LESS effort since then.

    + + +

    Here's my new strategy:

    Watch the scale, and if the weight begins to creep out of the comfort zone, re-evaluate habits and eating behaviors, through trial and error — one or a few at a time.  But adopt and evaluate habits as potentially permanent lifestyle adaptations.  If I do not think I could sustain a habit for the rest of my life, it probably is not a good habit for me.

    No more of this "I only have to do it until my weight comes back under control."  Only:  What I do, I do from now until it doesn't make sense for me anymore.

    + + +

    A caveat:  A habit "for the rest of my life" doesn't mean "every single time."  If I am in the habit of not having bedtime snacks, it doesn't mean that I never choose to have one.  It's more of an "almost always."  Let's take it as a given that occasionally I will splurge.  But not often enough to make a new, not-so-good habit.

    + + + 

    Another thing that's kind of weird about this is that it requires a little bit of double think.  Because I have to be open to changing the habits if necessary.  See, my environment constantly changes:  my children are growing, the seasons are turning, my schedule is different every semester, my own body is aging from year to year.  It stands to reason that the helpful habits of today might be less helpful in a future time.  So I know that it's not really true that any given habit is being adopted "for the rest of my life."

    But I cannot work with a habit that I wouldn't be okay with "for the rest of my life."  If it's too hard to do "for the rest of my life" then it's going to make me suffer, and long for release, even in the short term.

    + + + 

    So what did I do back then around Thanksgiving?  Well, this sort-of-New-Year's post about the turkey roasters and the puppies is getting at the distinction:

    Here is my husband's idea, which has merit: "Make a list of habits that you can add or subtract as necessary. Put them in order from the easiest and most painless to the most difficult and annoying. Then, if your weight spikes up, start adding habits in order, only one or two at a time. If that doesn't help, add more until your weight goes down again, and then you can stop the habits, starting with the most annoying ones."

    The idea of ranking behaviors by annoyance level was a new one, and I thought I would give that a try. I started making a list of things like "don't eat sweets" and "keep the serving dishes in the kitchen" and "put a stick of gum by my plate at dinner" and "one egg is enough eggs for breakfast" and the like.

    But as my list of former and current and potential weight-controlling strategies grew longer, I began to feel uneasy about calling them all "habits." And as I began to shuffle them around to figure out which ones I enjoy the least ("no wine with dinner" and "pre-count every calorie" are two examples of behaviors that work extremely well but that exemplify the life I do NOT want to lead), I became even more sure that "habit" is absolutely the wrong word for many of these behaviors.

    What Mark is suggesting is not a ranking of habits, but a hierarchy of compensatory deprivations.

    A habit is not like a toggle switch; it is more like a houseplant or a tropical fish or a puppy. It requires care. Yes-no choices do go into it, though. Choose often enough to feed it and it thrives; choose often enough to neglect it and it withers. Useful habits are habits to live with: not necessarily permanently, but for long periods. They can be tried for a while to see if they are pleasant to live with and if they have desirable effects, but this is not the same as toggling them on and off; it is more like a temporary adoption, to see if an attachment will deepen.

    Compensatory deprivations are less like a companion pet and more like a spare folding table or a turkey roaster: an unwieldy, occasionally used piece of furniture or appliance that you get out of the basement from time to time when necessary. (e.g., at the holidays.)

    What I've decided is that I'm done with turkey-roaster dieting, for the most part. 

    Anyway, I went on the next day to spell out some of the habits I was thinking about trying on:

    I think a lot of people slip up by resolving to deprive themselves permanently or indefinitely of something they really enjoy that is ordinarily harmless, or at least it is harmless in moderation. It would be better to identify habits that are really desirable, and try to set yourself up to fall into them, so to speak.

    As for me, my biggest problem right now is that I have slipped into an indulge-gain-deprive-lose cycle, and I really need to get out of it and into a more balanced pattern. That calls for a look at habits I would like to re-establish for the new year: permanent changes that I really want to have.

    So I made a long list of potential behaviors, and then I carefully considered each one. If I found it appealing, I put it on my list of "habits to try." If I didn't, I put it on the list of "compensatory deprivations" — and I don't intend to touch those except on rare occasions, such as the morning after a day full of bad food, or as a needed kick start.

    The three habits I started trying were very simple:

    • "Half a sandwich is enough sandwich for me."  When faced with a sandwich, only eat half.
    • A normal portion of sweets is a two-thumbs-sized rectangle, or (if it's scoopable) 1/3 cup.
    • Have only a small portion of alcohol with dinner; have more only after I've pushed my plate away.

    I quit trying to deprive myself based on the scale numbers plotted on the chart; instead it was more like, "Well, the chart shows me that my current habits aren't keeping my weight well in control; I need to adopt a different set of habits that will, indefinitely, keep my weight well in control.  When I find them, I will keep them, not quit as soon as I see happier numbers."

    And when I stopped the panic, stopped depriving myself of all manner of things, and switched instead to reinforcing those three habits, I noticed, other habits became easier.  For example, it became easier to stick to one plateful at dinner, rather than helping myself to unnecessary seconds.  And the half-sandwich reminder made it easier for me to have balanced meals when I ate at restaurants.

    A month later, my weight is back in control.  It's in better control than it's been in for the last YEAR, I think.  (Maybe I'll post the data later to show you.)

    + + +

    Permanent, not temporary, change.  That is what it is all about.  Why do I have to keep learning this over and over again?