Put Your Hands In The Air And Step Away From the Chocolate Cake

Sorry I missed a day or two, friends. Parenting a 13 year old takes a lot out of me sometimes - especially when he hasn't taken his acid reflux medication like he told me he was and the night before last kept us all up with his coughing until 4:30 a.m. Later in the day provided some more unpleasant revelations about school work, attitude, you name it. I predict if he continues down this road, he'll either end up in Congress, in jail or both.

I was in a bad mix yesterday - sleep-deprived and really pissed off. One of those days where there was a high probability that my husband could have been greeted home from work by a variety of 6:00 news vans and the State Police Crime Lab ("She kept mostly to herself but seemed like a nice woman. Fat, though."). I really could've torn through a chocolate cake had one been available. I even thought about baking one - that's how close to the edge I felt. But because I didn't have my old coping buddies around (or couldn't even eat them if they were), I actually had to sit with the emotions and Work. Through. Them. What a concept! It was hard but it's what I've been reading about for years in terms of finding the key to real and sustained weight loss for people who eat emotionally. I've just never put it into practice. Too hard. But now my hand has been forced - mostly because of food allergies - and a big step for me will be to continue dealing with the emotions head on.

This wasn't my first bad day and it won't be my last. My son will get through adolescence and I will get through menopause (hopefully without juvie or electro shock therapy, respectively). It is a hellish shame that we're doing it at the same time. About the only thing we've got in common is that we're comparing moustaches. But at least today I don't have the added trouble (and guilt) of brushing cake crumbs from it.