The last few days have been painful as I come down from the high from a steady diet of hot chocolate, marshmellows, Christmas cookies and candy that have made up the four basic food groups I've been adhering to since the end of November.
It hasn't been pretty.
Today Finn had a friend over after school and they wanted to have hot chocolate and marshmellows. I could feel the sticky, sugary goodness of those marshmellows when I reached into the bag to pass them out. I wanted to stuff a whole wad of them into my mouth when no one was looking, but I had to settle for just licking my fingers afterward. And the hot chocolate? I was lurking around their mugs as they were finishing their snack, hoping someone left some dregs in the bottom that I could slurp. Because homemade hot chocolate? Nestle Quik doesn't hold a candle to it, I'm telling you. How could it with 1/4 cup sugar to every two cups of milk? I can't even begin to count high enough to figure out how much sugar we have collectively consumed this holiday season. But then again math has never been my strong suit and I tend to underestimate when it comes to how much food I consume. Perhaps that has contributed to my snug ski pants recently?
I know I blogged before about how I follow an online exercise program. You get a free coach assigned to you and you report in on your food, log your exercise, and get feedback (curiously, no one ever tells me I should probably eat more). Let's just say I didn't do much reporting in over the holidays. I mean, how was my coach going to respond to posts like:
Breakfast: Two eggs, whole wheat toast, 1/2 grapefruit, mug of hot chocolate the size of a small swimming pool with whipped cream and marshmellows.
Snack: 2 dozen Christmas cookies, glass of milk.
Lunch: Lean Cuisine, carrot sticks, half a tin of toffee.
Snack: apple slathered in peanut butter, multiple pieces of Marie's candy
Dinner: Skipped it so I could eat an entire batch of popcorn followed by another 2 dozen Christmas cookies dunked in raw milk.
(And you may laugh, but this is actually so close to the truth, it's sad)
Exercise--walking back and forth to the refrigerator, wrestling with lids of cookie tins, trying to hold the Marie's candy out of the childrens' reach, putting stamps on Christmas cards, locking the door behind the kids when they went out to play in the snow so they couldn't rush back in and find me with my head submerged in the cake taker full of Christmas cookies.
So the fact that I am now on cold turkey withdrawl from refined white sugar is made painfully obvious by my shrewish attitude towards the world. I'm like Elaine in that Seinfeld episode when she tries to not eat the office birthday cake. I've got the DTs and need some serious intervention. If only I'd saved a little piece of cookie to help in my detox process. Yes, date pinwheels are like methadone for me. I need them. I NEED THEM! GET ME A COOKIE! PLEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAASE. If you loved me, you'd give me a cookie.