I just noticed that I am pushing all my cravings off on my son. It's funny and ridiculous. It's like breaking a vase and blaming it on a child.
Case in point: I am calorie counting right now. Well this is a lifestyle change, so I'll be calorie counting for life. This is devastating! The craziest part about calories are you could never guess how many you are eating if you tried. It would always be wrong. If you measure your food you would see you eat too much. This is a terrible revelation. It proved the point that if you eat yourself 3/4's full you will be totally satisfied. Your food does expand or your belly realizes how much you ate. I don't know, but it happens. I am having epiphany's daily, and I'm being struck with sadness. This is why. There are always sweets here, always. We seldom eat them. We still have candy purchased at Easter and Christmas here. There are cookies baked, and brownies came into the house yesterday. I am being harassed by chocolaty evil. All of a sudden I am desperate for these things, because I won't allow myself to have them. (I'm good at willpower as long as there's consequence and clear cut goals.) There are far too many calories in these things for me to indulge, at least this early in the game. I'm scared just one will send me back to the land of the forever fat. So, I go to the kitchen, open the Tupperware, salivate over cookies and brownies, then pick one up with stars in my eyes. I get so excited. Then I snap back into reality and call my son. I give it to him, disguised as a treat for a behavior he only half way did, and then watch him with longing. I've done this twice now. I am so ashamed, but in my defense he burns more calories than I do anyway. Later, I feel so awful I double up on his veggies. So we sit across from one another eating something raw and healthy with fake smiles on our faces. Actually judging from the little bit of chocolate in the corner of his mouth, he's smiling for real.