I stayed on plan yesterday, but it was a fight. I picked up my son from school and took him pants shopping for his band concert. Afterward, we went to McDonalds so he could grab a quick bite before heading home to do his homework. On the way home, I tossed around the idea of pulling the car over and grabbing the bag out of his hands and eating it all myself, but I reminded myself of my goals and drove home. Feeling very underprivileged and sorry for myself.
Later that night, the husband wanted to take us out for ice cream. I tagged along, dreaming of cookie dough ice cream, but still ordered a diet coke.
I went home and made myself some oatmeal with peanut butter in it, then went to bed.
I also had a butt ton of mother's guilt for feeding my son all this junk. He's 12, and was such a picky eater when he was little that I ended up letting him eat what he wanted to keep him from starving to death. If I pushed food on him and made him eat it, he would barf it up anyway so I gave up. To his credit, he is now trying to eat more salads and fruit. My husband, no way. He will never change his diet. Why are we so attached to the food that kills us? My dear Grandma basically ate herself to death. She was a proud southern woman who loved everyone with food that was laced with copious amounts of bacon grease. Everything was fried, pies were made with lard in the crust, and her biscuits always dripped with pan gravy. It was love and we ate it all and asked for more. Later in life, she ballooned up to 300 pounds and had a heart attack. Then came the congestive heart failure, the diabetes, the blindness, the dementia, and finally death in a nursing home. Her food was love. She couldn't give it up.
So I will dust myself off and stay the course. The consequences of not staying on this eating plan are just too great for me.
Today's Eats:
Breakfast: pancake with flax, coffee
Lunch: Boca burger, baked beans and apple sauce
Dinner: Cabbage and noodles
"One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well." - Virginia Woolf