Yesterday I had to talk myself down from the edge of the Bingeing cliff. Nearly every week that I go to my sister's house to babysit, my eating goes badly. I know some of you might be thinking I should just quit the babysitting, and oh trust me, if I could, I would. However, there's backstory there that I can't talk about and the bottom line is that I'm stuck with it for a while longer. Yesterday was absolutely horrible....not quite the binge I was considering, but bad enough. I made myself count up all the calories when it was over, I arrived at 2400, sat down and had myself a good cry.
Let's see. My sister asked me to meet her early at a gas station so she could get to the lab by 4pm and study for a test. I obliged her, and we met up at 3:45p. She quickly handed me a Chic-fil-A gift card with about $15 on it, an envelope of free coupons for Chic-fil-A items that came in some calendar she bought from them, and swift instructions to take her kids there for dinner when we parted ways and let them play at the indoor playground. Then she was gone in a flash. That's just how quick my healthy eating plans dissolve. Yes, this is my problem....not my sister's. Yes, I need a stronger resolve. Yes, I should be able to face temptation head on and stare it down with no damage done to my eating plan.
Grace was crying and clinging to her mom, saying she didn't want her to leave. Brandy was bribing her by saying she'll bring her a gift home, etc etc. Same thing every week. Grace cried all the way to the restaurant and by the time we got there my nerves were already half shot. I should have been able to sit in that Chic-fil-A for over an hour and watch them munch on their chicken nuggets and fries, slurping down their milkshakes, and not been affected at all. I should have been able to resist the smell of the fast food that I've been working so hard to avoid by staying AWAY from those places, but I didn't. I failed, and I did it in a big way.
We were sitting at a table right against the glass that enclosed the indoor play area. Elijah was leaned up against the glass looking in when he dropped his milkshake. It went everywhere. There weren't enough napkins in the world to clean up that mess. I sheepishly told one of the workers what happened and asked if I could use their mop. She insisted on cleaning it up herself, while another worker brought him another milkshake! (I was thinking, what the hell are you doing crazy lady??? The last thing he needs is something else to splatter all over the glass, table, floor, his clothes and shoes, etc.!!) I just smiled and told her how kind she was to replace it at no charge. When they were done making their food messes and stressing me out, they played for a while.
We got there at 4pm and left at 5:15pm. Elijah wears a diaper or pull-up still, and he had a bout of diarreah while he was in there. You could smell it a mile away. This is when I realize Brandy didn't send any diapers for our venture out to dinner and playtime. Lovely. We got in the car so I could rush him home and clean him up. I know how acidic that can be and I didn't want him to suffer with diaper rash. The smell was overwhelming. I rolled down the windows but it didn't help. 15 min drive home. I did some dry heaving but managed to keep from actually puking up my food (although that probably would have saved me a ton of calories). I rushed him upstairs and onto the diaper table and pulled open the diaper. He's a squirmy little thing and refuses to be still for a diaper change. Threatening his life doesn't seem to help.
This is when I realize there's no diaper wipes. Anywhere. Diarreah...a squirming child...and no wipes. By this time my stress level is through the roof. I had the diaper open and Elijah's legs up in there air, trying to keep from having poop get all over him AND me. He kept wiggling around and hollering, "LET ME SEE THE POOP!" "I WANT TO SEE THE POOP!".
I tried to get Grace to bring me something to clean him up with while I held him in place but she was spinning around singing some song or something and totally ignoring the impending disaster. I finally spotted a roll of paper towels and grabbed them, running back and forth from his butt to the sink to dampen the paper towels, without him jumping down and running off. It was a poop fest to beat all.
After I finally got him cleaned up and unleashed him, I went to the kitchen to find some plastic bags to wrap the diaper up in and put outside. Guess what I saw sitting on the kitchen table? A pan of homemade brownies. Really? Seriously? God, do you hate me THAT much??? I ate 2 brownies.
Every time I get there the house is a wreck because the kids aren't made to pick up their toys....EVER. They're just always there in the middle of the livingroom floor, strewn down the hallway, hanging out of their bedrooms, etc. And every time, I set about picking them all up and tidying up the place. I fixed the cover on the sofa and got it looking nice again, washed a few dishes that were in the sink, etc. I'm a bit OCD and beings that I have no kids, I'm able to keep my house neat and tidy pretty easily. It helps keep my stress level down and sitting in a tidy environment calms my nerves.
Well a few mins after I got the place picked up, Steven came home. The kids had watched their Franklin video 2x and their Candyland video 2x. But when Steven got home, Elijah started yelling for his trains. He couldn't find them in the middle of the floor because I cleaned everything up and put them in toy boxes. Well....good ol' Dad came along and dumped out 2 toy boxes in the middle of the livingroom floor. Stress level back up. I immediately went to the kitchen and got my dinner out of the frig that I had originally brought with me....ate every bite.
A couple of hours later, around 9pm, Brandy came home from class. The kids were playing in the livingroom floor, and Steven and I were attempting to watch the news. We couldn't really hear it over the noise of the kids, but we could at least see the screen. Elijah jumps up and asks his mom to watch Franklin. I told him he'd already watched it 2x and Candyland 2x. Brandy reaches over and pops Franklin in, muttering something like, "You don't care, do ya'?" but not really looking for an answer. Then Brandy asked me to take the kids BACK to Chic-fil-A for lunch the next day. I said ok, got up, went back to the frig, and ate the ham sandwich that I had brought for my Tuesday lunch. The tears were just below the surface, and they stayed there until everyone went to bed. Then I let them flow freely.
This happens every week. Maybe not as bad as this week, but for some reason, I haven't found another way to cope other than food when I go up there. I didn't want to, but I MADE myself count up all the calories. 2400 of them. The really bad part is, I was scared Tuesday was going to be the same....but worse. Once I knew I was going to be faced with fast food again, I was very much throwing my hands up in my mind and saying "Eff it, I'll get the kids their Chic-fil-A and I'll go across the street to the Chinese restaurant and take care of that craving I've been fighting off for a month now!!"
I was really disappointed in myself for going so far over the 1800 cal limit that I set, and felt like Tuesday wasn't going to be any better. Sort of like I was pre-doomed. I cried a lot last night....and I prayed a lot last night. I asked for strength and resolve to move past the bad eating day, and make Tuesday a much better one. Inbetween the praying, I was having horrid binge thoughts filled with vats of Chinese food and buckets of fried chicken.
I woke up feeling really shaky this morning, like the resolve was still waivering. I really hate to piss my sister off, because it leads to all kinds of unsavory things when I do...hurtful stuff that I can't get into. And I was scared if I didn't take the kids back to fast food hell, that she'd be mad. But....I took the chance. I had to do it for me. I had to. We stayed in the house today. The kids asked for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and peanut butter crackers and that's what they got. I had some cottage cheese for breakfast that I brought with me, but unfortunately had eaten my lunch the night before. By the time Brandy got home at 2:30p, I was only at 330 cals for the day. I was determined to not go over 1500, in an effort to reduce a little bit of damage from the high calorie day previous.
Well I didn't quite hit 1500, but I came close. I'm sitting at 1530 today and I had a good, hard workout at the gym tonight with the trainer. Yesterday, before I went to Brandy's, I got myself in the gym for 40 mins of cardio. So the exercise is still spot on this week, thank God. I don't know how bad Saturday's cookout, and yesterday's stupidity is going to affect Friday's weigh-in. I never know til I step on that scale.
I thank God for helping me get through today without having 2 bad days in a row. When I do something like that, it leads to a downward spiral and I would have given up until Friday and then started over, probably with a decent-sized gain. It was really tough beating down the bingeing thoughts. I spent most of the morning talking out loud to myself, praying, whatever I had to do stay indoors and keep control over the eating. It's been a rough couple of days, but I'm hoping tomorrow will be better. Staying on track can be a real struggle for some of us, but I know if I just stay the course as best I can, that it will all be worth it in the end. 'Nite friends. :)
Quote For the Day:
"You don't drown by falling in the water. You drown by staying there." -Unknown
3 months ago