My mother is undermining my diet. A couple weeks ago she started cleaning out the refrigerator before the big move by cooking all the frozen pumpkin from Halloween into pumpkin bread for her church group. She also cooked two big pans of brownies and left them right on the counter for me to see and smell and drool over when I came home hungry from work. (Psst! Don’t tell the church people about the drool!) This happened to be the same weekend when I’d read it might be a good idea to break your diet for a day to get out of a plateau. Not fair, attacking me while I’m at my weakest!
The next week I skipped breakfast before taking my cat for his annual check up and nearly fainted in the veterinarian’s office because it was so warm. That’s totally the wrong type of doctor’s office to have a medical emergency in. When I came home I had plans to make an omelet, but my mom had cooked some Pillsbury Grand’s Biscuits which I grabbed because they were there even though they are far too high calorie and high GI.
She also seems to be coping with all the moving stress by buying junk food and thinking a good hiding place for the Double Stuf Oreos (not a typo, Nabisco only puts one “f” in “Stuf”) is on the shelf right above the trash can. Perhaps she thinks we’re so filthy that we never throw anything out and would never see them. Yesterday I absently chomped on two Oreos before checking the back of the package to see that each cookie contains 70 calories. 70 calories! I nearly tossed my cookies in shock. That’s more than one of my yogurt cups, all devoured in two bites! I’d have to go run a mile to work off what I’d been able to eat in all of 20 seconds. It was truly horrifying.
I will cut my mother some slack since she’s under a lot of stress and because I’m grateful she never hounded me about my weight as a child. Everyone I have ever met who has had such a mother has told me it’s royally fucked up their body image and self esteem. Never once have I met someone who’s said “My mom hounded me constantly about my weight as a child and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me!” Nope. Hounding a kid about their weight is sure to lead to years of therapy. Unless you are a psychologist trying to add to your client base, don’t do it!
However, my brother and I agree that our mother has always been the weakest link in the dieting chain. If you open the freezer door to see two half gallons of Edy’s ice cream nestled between the frozen broccoli and peas, she’s probably the one who bought it (which she did, last weekend). She probably got it for buy one, get one free, as though the calories come at half off too. The “it was a great price” excuse is her favorite rationalization for buying bad food, followed only by the “I’m making it for someone else” excuse, like the before mentioned church brownies.
I’m not a food nazi. If my mother wants to eat crap, it’s her business. I have however asked her to hide the crap food she buys. Bury those ice cream cartons beneath the bags of asparagus. I’ll never find them there! But she keeps forgetting to do this and it’s really beginning to piss me off. She’s stressed out. I get it. But is it really that hard to stash the cookies under your bed instead of in the cupboard? Geez.
Needless to say, it’s led to a couple small slips on my part. I’m not completely blaming my mother for these slips. I’m a grown woman. I control what I put in my mouth. But I also know what I put in my mouth is determined by what I can reach, and she’s been putting a lot of bad stuff within arms length. I feel like I’m a smoker trying to quit the habit while living with someone who’s smoking two packs a day.
I think moving out will be good because I won’t be colliding with these tempting yet terrible foods while I’m searching the fridge for an afternoon snack. Plus, my mother can eat whatever shit she pleases without me having to harass her about hiding it.