Monday, February 27, 2012

Because It's Nasty

Along with our sugar addiction, Jenni and I also have another addiction --- texting. We are highly functioning textaholics. Though we don't see it as a problem, EZ-Go Joe and Grumpy Jeff think we have serious issues and are contemplating shipping us off to Betty Ford.

We are calling their bluff. They'd never let us go on vacation to rehab and leave all 6 kids behind. And so, we text on with a vengeance. We have actually discussed it with Grumpy Jeff, and he thinks that texting has decreased communications amongst friends. While it’s true that we might “talk” less, we subscribe to the theory that texting keeps us MORE plugged in to the daily minutia that fills our lives.

For example, cat locked in the refrigerator overnight . . . I need instant notification.


Severe case of baby doll constipation? . . . Jenni needs to know immediately about that. She might need to check the dolls in her house.
Little Lady giving her doll a suppository.
"She's gonna need a diaper."
Aside from sharing the daily lunacy that is our lives, we also use our texting addiction to try to stave off cravings from our sugar addiction and binge eating in general. We send out pleas for help.   When I'm cleaning up after dinner, I can't help myself.  Even after I've just had a delicious and filling dinner, I shovel in bite after bite of half-eaten kid food like I'm the garbage disposal. Jenni does the same. That's when texting comes in handy.  I might get a  text from Jenni that says, "should I eat this soggy, 20 minute old grilled cheese sandwich?"   And, I respond, "No!  You aren't hungry.  This is not the Great Depression! And, it's NASTY! "  Crisis averted. 

Certain foods are easy to classify as nasty.   For example, the rear-end of a piece of chicken that’s been pressed into the shape of a dinosaur . . . clearly NASTY.



Others are harder.  Cereal milk left in a bowl, sweetened to perfection . . . that's NA . . . wait, no it's not.  Its like sweet, sweet nectar.  I just drooled on my laptop keyboard thinking about it.  Not nasty . . . awesome.



A half-eaten peanut butter and honey sandwich . . . its not nasty either . . . it’s money. It’s delicious. It’s what I would stuff my face with for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I thought it wouldn't turn me into this:


If I murder someone in a sugar withdrawal induced fit of rage, my last meal might very well be a peanut butter and honey sandwich. Or maybe peanut butter cookies.

www.bigoven.com
No, wait . . . peanut butter pie.   mmmmmmm pie. 

from www.verybestbaking.com

      No . . . I know.   Peanut butter cheesecake.

Ruggles Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Cheesecake. Photo by GaylaJ
http://www.food.com/recipe/ruggles-reeses-peanut-butter-cup-cheesecake-114907

Sorry, where was I?  I got a little intoxicated by the prospect of a last meal on death row . . . you'd better stear clear of me tomorrow. 

But, herein lies the REAL challenge of this experiment.  The Sugar Goddess . . . she's amazing and I'll give credit where credit is due.  If her will power were a little Asian man, it would be Bruce Lee, kicking ass all over Hong Kong.  She's tough.  But, I'm also pretty sure she's childless.  Since I've gone FF, I've made 16.5 peanut butter and honey sandwiches.  I've baked cookies, muffins, and brownies.  I've doled out countless other delectable sweet treats to my kids (fattening their beaturiful teeny tiny livers *sign* -- they better watch out -- their detox is next).  But, the Sugar Goddess lives in a little FF bubble.  Her house is an asylum from the constant barrage of sugar that I face daily.

She buys and, more importantly, cooks only for herself. This morning I made blueberry
muffins for the kids. The batter was dripping down the side of the bowl.   I held strong though and didn't even take so much as a lick.  I handed out their warm blueberry muffins and whirled me up this gorgeous little Green Monster in my Magic Bullet.

Cucumber, Almond milk, spinach, baby food sweet potatoes

And, don't worry, mom, that's not all I had for breakfast.   I actually had 4x this amount of Green monster and scrambled eggs with zucchini, onion, venison sausage, and cheese.

If Jenni and I can do this, with ALL the temptation that surrounds us daily, I am going to strip the Sugar Goddess of her title.  I'm going to crown Jenni and I "The Sugar Goddesses."  Maybe, I'll throw in "badass" . . .  "The Badass Sugar Goddesses."  Yep, that's better.

Peace out,

Elizabeth



















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