Summer was hard on my waistline this year. You’d think opening the new pool would have motivated me to shape up, but instead it just encouraged me to sit around with my friends noshing on Pringles and ice cream. I have therefore decided that between now and Halloween, it’s time to bring out the big guns:
That’s right: fat-free, sugar-free, instant chocolate pudding-like substance. Oh yeah.
(And that glass is actually clean, we just had hard water for a long time. I know. Don’t you wish you were coming over for dinner?)
Let me take you back about six months. You see, every spring, I get on a “I’m gonna eat healthy, work out extra hard, and really lose that winter insulation” kick. I usually muster up this annual motivation sometime around March. I try for a few weeks, get bored, give up, then start all over again in April. Sometime around Memorial Day, I finally find my mojo. I cut calories and sweat all over the place and eat my fatfreesugarfreeinstantchocolatepudding-like substance as though it’s being taken off the market for harboring too many toxic additives. This highly disciplined regime usually carries me into at least the third week of June, when the family reunions and camping trips kick in. (I know. You summered in Greece this year while I pitched a tent with my kids in the rain, didn’t you? That’s why I don’t read your blog.) About midsummer, I decide it’s pointedly rude to keep turning down my mom’s potato salad or my husband’s barbequed hot dogs, so taking a breather from my disciplined dogma is a kind of obligatory etiquette. (Did Emily Post ever recommend fatfreesugarfreeinstantchocolatepuddin-like substances in social situations? I didn’t think so.)
But come September, it’s time to get back into a routine: bedtimes, healthy eating and exercise. I survive on my fatfreesugarfreeinstantchocolatepudding-like substance for awhile. But changing leaves means pumpkin bread and hot cocoa, and boy does Halloween sneak up on me fast, and it is the kids’ favorite holiday, and who wants to be the uptight mom who won’t share in a mini Milky Way or take a bite (or ten) of an ooey-gooey caramel apple? It’s the least I can do to honor motherhood. And of course, I have a moral–no, spiritual–responsibility to host a splendid Thanksgiving dinner for my beloved family. The shopping and prep for this event usually require at least two weeks of heedless eating on my part, but what can I do? I’m the cook, after all, and I owe this event some foretasting. And once we get through Thanksgiving, really, girls, is there any point to counting calories until after
Christmas New Year’s?
Okay. So after New Years, I’m back on My Diet (still don’t have a tight definition for that.) But wait–oh, wait, my three faithfuls–Valentine’s Day is right around the corner! And I refuse to be the cold fish who disregards my hubby’s lovingly bestowed sweets on the grounds of self-discipline. (Didn’t you see Chocolat? I’ll be the Sexy Chocolate Salesvixen, not the tight-lipped mean mom, thankyouverymuch.) Okay. So we’ll get right back on it after V-day. We’re on to March, and it’s time to get serious. I make it until St. Patty’s, but then really, wouldn’t it be cute to get the kids some gold chocolate coins and make Irish soda bread? And I do feel like I should honor the Irish with a little “consumption” of my own. Okay, start over. Mid-march, round one. Diet, exercise…made it to Easter. Took a teenytiny little break for (the entire week of) Easter. It is an important holiday, after all–equal to Christmas in its theological underpinnings, but reduced to bunnies and pastel eggs by our society. But unlike common folk, I try to make Easter as important as Christmas by eating equal amounts of chocolate for both. What can I say? I’ve always been spiritual.
And after Easter, it’s into May and my fatfreesugarfreeinstantchocolatepudding-like substance. It’s brown. It’s cold. It’s kind of sweet and kindofbutnotreally chocolate-y. I’d call it chocolate-flavored foam. Chfloam. Add a dallop of whipped chemicals (i.e., fatfreesugarfreenondairysubstance) and I’ve got a winner for those long days of sugarlessness that plague me for at least six weeks of every year–three in May, until my teensytiny summer break, and another three in October until my teensytiny autumn break.
So here we are, and here I am, making you feel guilty about all the full-fat pudding you’ve been eating. I know–I’ve become one of those bloggers, intimidating you with my nutritional discipline and fitness savvy. But don’t worry, my three faiths; underneath all the muscle and tone, I’m still just me. We can still be friends. In fact, let’s start by talking about your own, personal chfloam. What do you live on when you’re trying to be “good?” I’m guessing it’s something kindofbutnotreally healthy, kindofbutnotreally tasty, kindofbutnotreally food.
Come on. Tell me. I need to know, because if I don’t find a replacement soon, this mocklate’s* gonna kill me. Or at least get a really thick skin on the top.
*name that sitcom. embarrassingly easy bonus question.*