One of the goals Bart and I set this year was to only eat two desserts a week [Edit: This means two servings of desserts a week, not two nights a week where we can eat desserts as fast as we can shove them through our lips. If that means half a dessert four nights a week, great. If that means two desserts in one night, also great].
I won’t lie and say it’s been all fun and games; on a few weeks it has been a kind of lame thing. But really, overall, it hasn’t been that big of a problem. It means that we generally don’t eat desserts during the week and have one on Saturday and Sunday nights.
One of the things I’ve really liked about it is that it’s made me realize how many sweets I eat without recognizing it. I’m certainly not going to waste one of my desserts on a handful of Hershey kisses. Some dry, disgusting cookies some one brought into work and left on the table? No thanks. Before this, I would have, though.
We’re flexible about our desserts too – we do halves or even quarters (for instance, we’ve determined that two regular sized cookies is one serving, so when I had half a cookie last night, it was a quarter of a serving and only one-eighth of my overall weekly dessert budget).
And seriously, it is so fun on a Sunday night to say, “We both have one dessert left. What should we have?!” Nothing tastes better than your last dessert on Sunday night. This dessert last week? Divine.
Does this just sound insane or, like Kristi, do you find yourself thinking, “hmm, I could do that.”