In which I write TMI.

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I woke up with a headache again.  Two Excedrin Migraine and it faded, which is super because we are back to the same old today.  The big kids went back to school, Dad is of course at work, and T and I are on our own until the late afternoon.  It is becoming harder though, this child is very, um, crafty?  She does things that the older kids never did, thought of doing, or maybe I just don't remember them trying.  Right at this very moment (so I have to go and stop it right now, hold on) she is pushing a wooden chair from the dining room, into the kitchen, over the doorway hump and to the cabinet, to climb up and try to snag a snack.  ALL DAY LONG SHE DOES THINGS LIKE THIS.  (Hold on, BRB.)  Okay.  I have put the chairs closest to the kitchen up on the table.  GAH.  The older kids did not try crap like that – maybe it's because we were always in a smaller space – and could not really get out of my line of sight?  This child can – very quickly leave my sight and I am forever chasing her.  I have to shut all doors, block her bedroom door from closing and locking, and the bathroom?  Forget the bathroom(s) she unrolls TP, dumps out any soap that is near her into the tub and "makes bubbles!"  AHHH.  (That was also today, while I helped one of the big kids with her backpack in the hall next to her.)  Everything has to be closed, locked, blocked and deferred.  "Here, do this instead!"  

On a good note, nobody else is here for at least 8:45 am to late afternoon to influence my eating.  (That was the point of this post.)  The baby can't really ask for the crap that triggers me to graze.  She just wants whatever she sees, just now, it was peaches.  I am not going to even touch peaches.  GACK.

Yesterday, someone who shall remain nameless said, out loud, "I am going to need something sweet." 

That person was basically asking permission to bake something, make something or buy something carbolicious and forbidden.  I nearly took his head off.  I CANNOT HAVE THIS SHIT AROUND ME.  This is a huge problem.  

In the spirit of being honest, we have had this problem since the very beginning when we were able to indulge in a litte. more. normal. food.  If you have been reading, you know this.  He is a giant carb addict, I am nearly as bad if the food is available to me.  I don't physically purchase it, because I will eat it if it's in my arm reach.  "Brownie?  SURE!  One won't hurt."  Six pieces two days later – and I am all, "WHY WERE THOSE IN THE HOUSE?"  He doesn't seem to get that.  Don't tempt the dragon, right?  Don't bother.  Don't buy it.  Don't cook it.  Don't make it available.  You can tell me until you are BLUE in the face, "Beth, don't eat it.  It's your willpower, just don't."  BULLSHIT.  If you have someone BAKING COOKIES in your house?!   "Just one."  It's never just one.  It's one now, one later, one tommorrow.

Part of the main reason I got so obese in the first place was falling prey to his food demons.  "Cheeseburger sub?  French Fries?  Maybe a Little Debbie later?"  SURE!   Now, it's different, he doesn't bring home single-wrapped $1 goodies, ever.  I would maim him.  It's a more veiled attempt at carb-eating, it's the box of Ghiradelli Brownie Mix (just an example, we haven't actually had that here) and yesterday, a pan of Grape-Nut pudding.  (I  CANNOT EAT THAT, it is a seriously disgusting texture.)  But, the smell?  Heavenly.  "What is in that, anyway?"  He replies, "Cream, eggs, 1 cup of sugar, etc."  We need this why?  He said, "I need something sweet."   This was because I begged him NOT to make FUDGE.  FUDGE!  Really.  He makes that, and then we are tempted with it until he throws the excess away.  

Please don't bitch at me – I am not his mother – and I truly hate whining about it to him – it gets nowhere – and then what?  Muffins?  When he's not here – he eats countless muffin-tops – I know it.  He works where there is a Dunkin Donuts within smelling distance.  He drinks assloads of coffee extra light with cream, and orders muffins or cruellers.  He obviously doesn't dump, if that is your question, but every roux en y post op eventually knows EXACTLY HOW MUCH TO EAT before dumping. 

That's one muffin top, or one half cruller, thanks.  

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