Pusher

Today I made my daughter oatmeal for breakfast, egg salad for lunch, and a farfalle/meat/ricotta cheese concoction for dinner.  In addition to that, I made blueberry 'bread', although calling it bread is like calling Haagen Daz ice cream an Optifast shake.

Why, Dear Reader, do I torture myself so?

I did not have to do any of it.  I could have let my adorable fiancé (AF from now on, I'm lazy) make all the meals, he would have been happy to help.

I think I'm drawn to the food - I like to look at it and to handle it.  My one faux pas during the entire day was kind of licking mayo off my finger until I realized my mistake, and wiped my tongue with a paper towel.  LOL.  I am pathetic.

Just like an addict, food gets me high.  Let's think of it this way - I'm like a drug addict who is in Rehab but insists on cooking the Meth.  Like a recovering alcoholic who mixes drinks.  Like a reformed hooker who... never mind.

Maybe I've become a food pusher instead of a food addict?  If so, you will need to call me 'Nanny', because my own personal pusher was my grandmother.  Food for thought, no pun intended.

Also, my entire family is eating less, which is interesting in so many ways - it shows me that I am a much bigger influence on my children and AF than I had ever imagined.  Hard to turn away from that kind of responsibility when it is realized.

Protect the fast, people!