If you’re a parent, you’ve probably been through the exercise of kid-proofing your house, and in particular your kitchen. Hot things, sharp things, nasty chemicals – all dangerous in little hands.
I think I’ve pretty much mastered the hot things. I can even handle the sharp things without incident – most of the time. Where I get into trouble is the sweet things. The chocolatey things. The peanuty things. The bag on the right? Its empty.
And now that bakesales have been banned in the schools, I can’t even blame it on some kind of altruistic baking bonanza.
The past week or so has been characterized by frustration, exhaustion, shame, and self-loathing. Most week-days I’ve been pegged: home time is dominated by kids. The work day gets trimmed at either end by family commitments so I can’t even justify a lunch hour workout. The pile of food wrappers in my waste bin grows, and I cringe as I imagine the thoughts of my co-workers, “no wonder she’s so fat.”
So I’m still on that downward spiral, misery-begets-bingeing-begets… well, you get the picture. But there’s one positive thing I can cling to: I’m still here. I’m still trying. I have some ideas I’m going to try this week, to me-proof the places where I spend the most time on destructive eating. So stay tuned :).
The bottom line: