Bless me, green sisters, for I have sinned. Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.
Friday night the kids and I watched The Wizard of Oz, their first time seeing it (agenda: a dear friend handed down her daughter’s “Dorothy” costume, and I’m hoping to convince my daughter to wear it for Halloween, which would not be possible if she did not see the movie…), and we vegged out and munched on butter-flavored microwave popcorn.
Saturday after work instead of going home for dinner, I unexpectedly had to head to the city to my in-laws, who are ill. I stopped at Walgreens to pick up a couple of things, and the Cheetos (my big vice–it’s awful!) were just sitting there on the shelf, looking all orange and false and delicious. The serpent tempted me, and I did eat.
Sunday night, after an unbelievably intense week and weekend of running around like crazy people, my husband got home from visiting his folks and we got the kids to bed, and he announced that he was craving pizza. So at 8pm we pulled out the Gino’s East frozen deep dish we had in the freezer, which wasn’t ready till 9. (The man whom thou gavest to be with me, he gave me of the pizza, and I did eat. Three slices I did eat.) (I at least get local points for that one, because the pizza came from Gurnee.)
I fell off the wagon big time, and now I’m feeling all bloated and icky while running to catch up and climb back on. Which I’m sort of doing–I had tea and a homemade granola bar for breakfast, and I will finish the broccoli in the fridge for lunch. And there’s an organic free range chicken in the fridge for one of these nights, but I’m not going to cook it unless we’re going to be home to eat it, you know? (I have till Friday before it even hits the sell by date, so we’re okay there.)
It wasn’t all bad…on Friday with their popcorn the kids got attempt two at Authentically Junky Tasting But Not Actually Junky Nor Horrifically Expensive breaded chicken tenders; this was closer than the first try. I did do try #4 of the granola bars and got some more bread dough going in the fridge for the week. And we tend to have cut up apples and carrots with practically every meal, and at least the kids ate well and didn’t do much wagon-falling once I’d corrupted them with popcorn. (Our neighbor’s daughter had her first birthday and there was cake and ice cream, but they didn’t gorge–of their own choice, even when ice cream seconds and thirds were being offered; they recognized they’d had enough. My work here is done!)
If nothing else–I have had brought home to me once again the reality that all these hideous processed things (okay, the pizza wasn’t hideous, it was AMAZING) that I have been programmed since childhood to think of as “rewards” are actually no reward at all–I feel sluggish, heavy, bloated, and generally Not So Great. And this weekend I am going to a dance workshop for three days and I will need to be mobile! So I’ll yank myself back onto that wagon and hopefully remember the lesson…