I have a confession. Those flipping Easter Peeps started chirping my name as soon as the sun broke through the night sky on Easter morning. I was SO good. I told them, “No, Peeps! You stop chirping my name! I don’t want your melty, sugary selves in my bellah, messin’ up my blood sugar mojo!”
Then came the day that we drove back to Savannah. I caved. I thought, “Just one.”
You’re laughing, aren’t you?
I bit the head off of the pink rabbit and swallowed it whole. Then, looking around cautiously to make sure nobody was watching, I inhaled the butt-half. It was so soft and succulent and I was SO ticked off at myself for not enjoying it that I ate another one.
And then another one.
And then another one.
And then my mom (who went Paleo 3 months ago) came outside and nearly busted me.
I took an enormous swig of water and pretended like I had something stuck in my teeth.
And that’s all it took for the blood sugars to take control of my brain.
They camped out in the frontal lobe of my brain where their voices spoke loudly and consumed my inner Cavewoman. I’m pretty sure those blood sugars tied her up and hid her in the back of a cave somewhere. She was completely silenced.
The Peeps turned into chocolate which turned into Smarties which turned into Popeye’s Chicken which turned into jelly beans (I don’t even LIKE jelly beans) which turned into goldfish crackers which turned into a Chik-Fil-A Milkshake which turned into an exhausted and moody Mama.
The day before yesterday, we ran out of candy (Thank you, Holy God).
Yesterday I wanted SOMETHING terrible for me but I resisted. I ate raisins instead. Today I’m making “Anytime Cookies” and “Pumpkin Pucks” from The Paleo Parent’s AH-MAZING new cookbook, “Eat Like a Dinosaur”. If I’m going to eat something sweet, I need for it to be grain- and sugar-free.
I can’t believe that I made it through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and 2 deaths in our families with lots of out-of-state travel without screw-ups this bad.
Then the freaking EASTER BUNNY comes for a visit and I cave to sugar-coated marshmallows!
At least I’m not completely disgusted with myself. I still fit into my jeans, I’m just hurting physically from my screw ups. But there’s always today. And today, The Workaholic is home to ensure my blood sugars don’t hold me hostage any longer.
One more week and I’ll have those nasty little demons tied up and shoved into a recess in the depths of my brain once again.
God, help me the next 7 days.