This may be one of the most popular times of the year to lose weight, but here's a little hint: Don't deny yourself of favorite foods, much less starve yourself.

Not only does it drop your metabolism but it will make you 53 times more hungry than you normally would be.

Nutritionists even suggest that you give into those cravings when they occur. The catch is that you are supposed to limit yourself.

If you must have chocolate, you are supposed to eat just one or two Hershey's kisses, not the entire bag. A few salty potato chips are O.K. Emptying the kitchen pantry of every last Frito-Lay bag is not O.K.

Denial is a sure-fire way to increase the desire for an item, something I quickly learned as a parent. The surest way to get a child to do something is to tell them not to do something.

For example, don't eat things off the floor (unless you are following the five-second rule, of which everything is then free-game). Before I can even turn around following the admonishment, little fingers are grabbing the piece of food off the floor.

While the piece of food may have just fallen to the floor during the course of making dinner that evening, the item in question may also have been a resident of the kitchen floor since the last time I got on my hands-and-knees and scrubbed the floor with a toothbrush. Like that's ever happened.

Some parents have been known to throw peas and carrots on the kitchen floor since this tactic is the only way they can get their child to eat their vegetables.

 

Recently, I learned first-hand how denying myself food made me crave foods I never knew I even liked. For a medical test, I had to undergo a 12-hour fast. By the end, I swore I hadn't eaten in three days. Actually, my downhill slide into supposed starvation began just minutes after the fast started.

7 p.m. The 12-hour fast begins. I'm actually feeling a little nauseous because I ate so much food in preparation for the fast. I don't engage in too much physical activity because I don't want to use up all my energy since food is off-limits for the next 12 hours. I want to pace myself.

7:30 p.m. The queasy feeling in my stomach has gone away and I swear I can feel hunger pains already.

8 p.m. I'm officially starving. Any other evening, I would be putting children to bed, getting school items ready for the next day, picking up around the house. But all I can think about is food.

8:15 p.m. Maybe I'm not starving, but I can't quit thinking about food. I'm ready to go to bed.

Normally, bedtime is two or three hours away, but I visions of sugarplums are dancing through my head and I've never even seen a sugarplum.

8:30 p.m. I've decided to take my mind off food by distracting myself with an activity such as folding clothes. Of course, I have to walk through the kitchen to reach the laundry room and I can feel the pull of the fridge as I cross the room.

8:45 p.m. I made it to the laundry room without attacking the cereal boxes. But as I reach for a washcloth, my mind envisions a slice of cheese. Just as that imaginary vision leaves my mind, reality sets in. The bin atop of the laundry room cabinet is full of hidden Halloween candy. The room is no longer safe and laundry has been abandoned for the evening.

9 p.m. I give up. No, I don't eat, but rather go to bed. I try to force myself to go to sleep and actually get the recommended eight hours of sleep, but once again, visions of banana bread drift through my mind. Eventually, I fall asleep; I assume I just passed out from hunger pains since it's been almost three hours since I ate.

The next morning: Only one hour left. I can make it. Food is within reach, literally. I may not be eating, but several small children are waiting for their bowl of cereal and I can't sneak my few handfuls like I normally do.

7 a.m. The fast is over, but I'm really not that hungry. I could keep on fasting -- for at least another 15 minutes.

-- Ronda Graff could never go on a starvation diet or worry about becoming anorexic. She likes food too much.