But today I break. I'm tired. There, I said it. I'm beat and I crave a little "me" time. Instead of acknowledging this, I chose guilt and a huge deli sandwich complete with a small bag of chips. As my healthy lifestyle was falling apart in my hands (yet again), I asked myself the mantra question that every dieter knows by heart, "What is it I'm really craving?" The answer came to me in what I was seeking in the sandwich, a personal experience, something I don't have to share, a simple pleasure all my own.
Lately, with school back in full swing for everyone, myself included, as well as a newborn in the home, I find little time for things I enjoy. I want to paint my toes, take a nap, sit in the sun. To make matters worse, I have a very annoying neighbor who is a stay-at home dad that is so bored he and his two little ones come over nearly every day and want to play. We don't live similar lives kids aside. When my older kids are at school I am shopping, cleaning, doing laundry, paying bills, filling out forms, making phone calls, setting appointment etc... etc... He is trying to entertain his kids. He walks into my home and lets his kids run through our shed and backyard so instead of mustering the courage to tell him I think it's inappropriate and I'm busy, I get extra mad that there is yet another demand on my time, hence the binge. I find myself avoiding going outside because one little peep and they're over. Even when I want to walk for exercise his kids are headed into my house. ARGHH.
It's not my neighbor, or the kids, or my school schedule though, It's whether I choose to make myself a priority or not. It's okay to have boundaries, it's okay to get tired and it's okay to blog out my frustrations without a merry sunshine conclusion.
This is an illustration of my food/resentment connection: So, my four year old wanted to go with me to the deli where I had hoped to privately eat my sandwich far out in the parking lot under a tree. I took her because I felt like I'd be a mean mommy if I said no. Sure enough she was extra chatty and had lots of questions about most everything in the store. No zone out time for me. I bought her a little bag of chips and I parked. As I tried to claim some peace through the flavors of my food, she announced that she was thirsty. I say nothing ( I didn't have a drink in the car). Thirty seconds later, she tells me she has to pee. I inhale, I exhale, I start the car and head home. While we were driving she asked if I was done with my chips. I told her I was and she remarks that I ate them too fast because she still has some in her own bag. I excuse myself by telling her that I ate them too fast because she needs to get home to use the restroom. I'm now upset that I have to walk my coveted sandwich into a house full of kids and noise. Who knows if I'll even get a bite unless I hide and gorge and subsequently feel guilty for not sharing. When we get home my darling daughter sets her bag of chips on the table and heads to the bathroom. As she heads down the hall, she firmly instructs me not to touch her chips. As soon as I hear the bathroom door click shut I take not one but three chips. My claim on my time lost. Ridiculous for sure but an illustration of how food becomes what it is not. It isn't time. It isn't stock or currency that you can exchange for energy or sleep or silence. It's food.
