So I went to see Dr. Stephen this morning for my weigh-in and was not a happy camper. According to the scale at the office, I am down another 4 pounds, of water only. So I have once again been blamed for cheating. If only! I have not cheated and quite frankly should win some sort of food addict's Pulitzer Prize. I have been on my best behaviour eating wise, taken the stairs more times than I can count, and have drank an ocean of water. I sort of felt like laughing like a hysterical crazy person when Dr. Stephen accused me of cheating. I WON'T cheat over the holidays, but sort of wish I did since I was being blamed for it anyway. Who am I kidding? I'm waaaaaay to chicken to cheat. The last time I did a cheat (it was really a semi-cheat), I only had a couple of mouthfuls of rice. I then spent the better part of the night on the toilet. I know very graphic and gross, but now you know why I am really being so diligent. Diarrhea scares the bejesus out of me! One of my greatest fears is to be in a public toilet erupting like Mount Etna. I can barely think of anything worse. On a happier note, my blood pressure is absolutely NORMAL and I am not on any medication!
So I guess I should just count my blessings and be glad that I lost and didn't stay the same or gain. And I am. Many people who struggle with their weight struggle over the holidays. This time of year was definitely my biggest eating fiesta. When my mother was alive, she did tons of baking and cooking. Don't even get me started on the traditional Polish Christmas Eve dinner she did. Then we'd have a FULL turkey dinner the next day. It was insane and I never could figure out how one woman did it all on her own. She was incredible and I really miss her around the holidays. Makes me feel like a flake because other than being with my extended family and my husband's extended family over the holidays, we don't have any traditions established for my son. Maybe that's what we should focus on next year because he's getting older and can remember now.
Going back to my mom's Christmas baking for a moment...just to prove to you how incredibly sugar and carb addicted I am, I'm going to share with you something my mother never even knew. She would bake Christmas cookies, put them in the freezer (we had the huge chest kind, the kind you could fit a human body into), and have them ready for when guests came a wassailing. After she put them in the freezer, I would get batches of them out, keep them in my own private Tupperware in my closet and eat them at my leisure. She never noticed cookies were missing because she baked enough to feed a battalion. I don't know how many I would eat over the holiday season and beyond, because really, those cookies lasted well into spring. Every year my mom would go through the freezer in spring time, throw out the stragglers, and I would rescue them from the garbage and, you guessed it, eat them.
So now you know another private shame of mine. Not only was I a taker of candy and alfalfa wafers from unsuspecting hamsters (Where oh where have the hamster treats gone?), but I also single-handedly ate all of my mother's Christmas baking. The disgrace of this haunts me every Christmas. Every time I walk by Christmas baking, I think I can hear a small voice laughing at me and saying "eat me". I know I must not give in. I have good will power now, but I know I just need one delectable sweet to touch my lips, and I won't be able to stop. If that happens, you know where you can find me. I'll be in the bathroom making lava. Merry Christmas:)