And then life happened…

So, here I am, feeling oh-so inspired, on my way to fabulousness. I've been staying on plan, working out an hour everyday. Go, Me! And then, Thursday night, a little tickle in the throat. By Friday, major cough and stuffiness. Not to mention the fact that my littlest had climbed into bed with me with a tummy ache. No sleep=no energy. For the whole day, Friday, I thought, "I need to get down to the dungeon." but I just couldn't do it. 

Saturday was better, I did manage to get a 30 minute walk in, but THEN, I was alerted to major pukage upstairs in the bedroom. Little Sam was feeling no better, and he looked awful. After a call to the Dr. and another "episode," we headed to the ER. Where we stayed for the next day. IV fluids and lab tests and major yuckiness. 

Look at my little boylie, poor little guy. He was a trooper. 

2010-03-07 11.27.54

My typical reaction to this situation, other than panic, would be to eat, whatever I could get my hands on. I had loads of excuses. I had no access to food at the moment, so all I could do was drink water. As the sun rose through the hospital room window, though, my mind started to need comfort. And where does that usually come from? Chocolate. Except no vending on the floor, except for drinks and…coffee! That's it, I'll have some coffee, keep my mind off food, help me wake up. 

Three cups later…Oh, there's that Luna bar in my bag, I can eat that, it's got protein and some vitamin-y type stuff in it. And I can have it with another cup of free hospital coffee. 

See where this is going? I was trying everything I could to NOT go down to the hospital cafeteria, where I'd see all those little pudding parfaits, and brownies and cookies and bags of chips which would make me feel OH SO MUCH BETTER about my little boy with the too-big hospital gown and needle in his arm and the "I wanna go home now, Mommy." I was trying really, really hard. But come about 3:00, not knowing how much longer we'd be there, I caved. "That's it, I'm hungry," I told my husband. "I'm going downstairs. Where is the cafeteria." He handed me some cash and away I went. The first thing I saw when I got down there was a nice little refrigerated case with some lovely salads and fresh fruit. And on the shelf above it? Those damn parfaits with their little poofs of whipped cream. So you know what I did? I bought the salad AND the fruit. Oh, it took me a while. A long while. I had to figure out which one looked best and what kind of dressing looked less fatty. And off I went to pay for my goods. As I rounded the corner I bumped right into the chips and cookies. Deep breath. My hands were full, I paid and left. 

About three hours later we were discharged and on our way home. Once we were in and cleaned up and got the children to bed, I found myself rooting around the house for more goodies. I am most definitely an emotional eater, and there's nothing more emotion-evoking than seeing your child in pain. I needed something. One Cadbury egg later, I stopped. I could keep going, and feel even crappier tomorrow, or have a nice, relaxing cup of tea, and enjoy the fact that my old sofa is much more comfortable than the hard-assed chair I sat on for nearly 24 hours. So that's what I did. 

I know it might not always end up this way. Sometimes things are really hard, and your brain talks you into things, and makes you think they're a good idea. I have learned from experience (um, Christmas holiday…7 pounds!) that this most definitely a bad idea. But it's life. It's not perfect, and neither am I. There's no way in hell that everyone can be perfectly on plan all of the time, and they shouldn't expect to. That's how things get out of control. All we can do is accept what we've done, and make a better choice the next time. And the time after that. Just as we teach our children, we need to stop and think before we act. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes it's not. Each time that I make one of those good choices, though, it makes the next choice easier. I just try to remember why I'm doing what I'm doing. Life isn't going to get any easier if I eat another chocolate egg. It'll just taste really good for about 3 minutes. Oh, who am I kidding? A minute, minute and a half, maybe. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s