Confessions of an overeater.

I love my mom.

One of my favorite stories about her is that she was once invited to two Thanksgiving dinners, one at her grandmother's house and one that was to occur shortly after at her future in-laws' house. Being the sweet, adorable lady that she is, she resolved to eat two feasts, in their entirety, right in a row (so as to not offend either host). Then she did.

Let me give you the dimensions of my mother:

She's about 5'4, weighs around 125. So basically, she's a teensy little pipsqueak.



So what does this have to do with my overeating? Well my mom has always been able to pack it away. She can basically eat on command, and because she lifts weights and bikes all the time she's in great shape. Clearly, some traits I inherited from my mom and some I didn't. For example, I got her insatiable ability to eat lots and lots of food without getting full, but her devotion to exercise seemed to get left by the wayside for me.

I'm pretty much always hungry! And on the rare occasion that I get full, give it about half an hour then I'm ready to go again. I know people who get full after small portions of food, then they put their fork down and - bam - they're done with what they're eating even if it isn't gone. Then they're satisfied for hours. What the frick is up with that?