Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Day 35

I have a weakness. Aside from Harrison Ford, that is. I have a horrible sweet tooth. I could care less about meat- I could easily survive on peanut butter, hummus, and cottage cheese. And I have never had a knack for salty snacks- I don't eat chips, popcorn, or pretzels. But sugar....oh, sugar. How you light up my taste buds and make the world instantly a happier place.

Growing up, sweets were not a regular part of our diet.  We never drank pop, cookies were Fig Newtons at our house, and we didn't have actual ice cream- it was frozen yogurt at best. I'm not complianing- I think growing up with this type of eating attitude has helped me in many ways. But a part of me wonders if I am now overcompensating for not eating junk food as a child. Or maybe that's just an excuse to eat Little Debbies...

When I went to college, I didn't know what to do. There was junk food everywhere at my disposal. The cafeteria at my dorm had little healthy choices, and I didn't really know HOW to eat healthy. It had always just happened because I either ate what was on my plate at home or didn't eat at all. The result was not a Freshman 15...it was a Freshman 40-50.

I moved back home my third year of college and joined the Fire Department. Between my mother's healthy cooking and Fire School (think of  wearing a navy blue uniform under a snowsuit in the summer for hours every day), I worked off my first two years of dorm food (ok, and maybe some dorm beer calories as well...).

Since then, I have relatively stayed the same size, aside from pregnancy and a short period of time where I thought P90X was the greatest thing alive. But my penchant for sugar remains. It is a daily battle of wills, especially when I am alone where peer pressure is not abundant. Traveling alone to Florida? Nobody will know if you eat 2 Milky Ways and a bag of chocolate covered raisins on the 2 flights down there. ..Staying in a hotel room by yourself? Noone will know that the box of Oatmeal Pies you bought at the store next to the hotel are for you and you alone- in one night.

I fought off the little devil on my shoulder (who looks strangely like Paula Deen at times) for both of these situations, but was faced with another dilemma tonight when I made cupcakes for my son. Chocolate cupcakes. Now anyone who bakes knows that cake, cookie, and brownie batter tastes almost more delicious raw than baked. Which is why every kid in America wants to "lick the bowl". I swear, my older 2 kids could hear a hand mixer start up from the next state over- doesn't matter what they were doing, they were always standing next to me by the time I finished mixing, waiting for their obligatory blade to lick clean.

But tonight, I finished mixing the batter, and when I turned off the machine noone was there. No kids. No husband. Just me and the mixing blades full of delicious, raw cake batter. What's a girl to do? Should I call for the 10-year old and share with him? Or should I quickly rinse them off so that their calories do not invade anyone's body. Of course not. I licked those puppies clean so fast you'd have thought I was falling off the wagon. Which I was of course, as I still had my workout clothes on from the gym....Licked the damn bowl clean too- even used my fingers to be sure I didn't leave any behind. I wish I could say I'm ashamed, but I'm too gluttonously happy at the moment to feel anything else.

Tonight's picture represents guilty pleasures and flashbacks to childhood memories. Don't tell the 10-year old- I will deny it to my grave! :)



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