“Mommy, how do you spell olive?” chirped my four-year-old daughter from the backseat of the car. Olivia and her twin sister, Sophia, were scribbling madly. “Oh, and tell us nut and chocolate, peese. We’re making a diet list!”
I shot a look at my husband. Panic. A diet list? Not the words this mommy wanted to hear from her toddler daughter. I’m determined to shield my girls from the body-image anxiety and the self-criticism that torment so many teenagers. This mom goes to the gym to “get strong,” not to burn calories. Sophia and Olivia will never hear me say, “I feel fat.”
The year was 2008, and my girls had seen me on television talking about my first book, Flat Belly Diet!, and the five healthy fats that target dangerous visceral fat. I’d trumpeted the energy borne of excellent nutrition and the well-being that living at a healthy weight brings.
So I gulped and asked what I needed to ask: “Why do you want to go on a diet, my loves?” Their answer—which came in enthusiastic stereo—made my heart soar: “Because we want to be healthy!”
Fast-forward to today. I’ve uncovered new research on wholesome, fat-fighting foods and devised a powerful new way to eat them. It’s The Digest Diet. I’m proud to stand behind the plan’s science, ease, recipes, and results (our test team lost 150 pounds!)
But most important? The plan passes the biggest test of all: my girls in the backseat of that car.
Just found the worst page in the entire dictionary. What I saw was disgraceful, disgusting, dishonest, and disingenuous.
Client: We need you to log in to the YouTube and make all our company videos viral.
My cat just walked up to the paper shredder and said, “Teach me everything you know.”
“Just because you can’t dance doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dance.” —Alcohol
@yoyoha (Josh Hara)
My parents didn’t want to move to Florida, but they turned 60 and that’s the law.
Q: What do you call an Amish guy with his hand in a horse’s mouth?
A: A mechanic.