“Mommy
what are you doing?”
“Driving
the car.”
“Where
are we going?”
“To
the grocery store.”
A
few minutes later,
“Are
we going to the grocery store?”
“Yes,
just like I said.”
A
few minutes later,
“Are
we there yet?” I just stay silent, I
feel like that should be self evident.
But maybe ‘self evident’ isn’t a concept that three year old children
understand. I remember asking these
questions as a little girl,
“Dad
what’s your favorite color?” I ask.
“Blue,”
he always says blue. Good, the world is
okay, everything can proceed as normal.
I
just finished the first chapter of Made to Crave; a book about replacing your
cravings for food with cravings for something more holy. Lysa Terkheurst, the author, asks you to
picture your cravings, she uses the illustration of a little orange monster. I pictured that three year old voice at my
elbow, except maybe a bit more sinister,
“Hey,
is there any chocolate in the house?”
“Yes….”
“Are
you gonna eat it?”
“No,
not right now.”
“You
should eat it.”
“No,
I don’t think so.”
“Have
you eaten it yet?”
“I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You
really should eat it…did you eat it yet?”
End
scene with me hiding in pantry with said chocolate now staining my fingers and
the edges of my mouth. Like a zombie
with brains.
I’ve
begun to be perturbed by my relationship with food as of late, because I know
that feel healthier when I eat healthy foods, cleaner, lighter, and
better. Yet I still will choose sugar
and carbohydrates over fruit and vegetables, almost every time. Why?
Why do I keep doing that? Lately,
that little girl at my elbow that tells me to eat all the time has gotten
really annoying. Why is she there? Why do I feel the need to eat
constantly? I think a hangover from
pregnancy and nursing is being afraid of being hungry. When I feel that first little gnaw in my
belly, I get a little frightened.
Awhile
back Emma and I had come home from some morning event and I was trying to make
lunch, her toy rolled under the coffee table.
“Mommy,
I need my toy,” she interrupts me. Tears
streaming down her face, panic fully evident across her sweet little cheeks.
“I
can’t help you right now,” I responded, trying to pull together something from
the nothing that was in our fridge. Our
exchanges continued, it escalated. I
refused to get the toy because it was pushed into a place where I could not
retrieve it fast enough for my taste. I
sat us down and we both shoveled the food into our mouths. Slowly the anger and frustration receded, I
felt myself relax. ‘Oh, we were hungry.’ Ever since that exchange I’ve become wary of
growing too hungry. If I get too low, it
gets ugly.
Lately
I’ve been letting my eldest watch TV while her sister naps (which either makes
me the best or the worst parent ever, depending on your opinion), she was
watching an episode of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. An animated rewrite of Mr. Roger’s
neighborhood. A song chimed out,
“Stop,
Look, and Listen,” it repeated it’s saccharin tones to levels annoying, but as
it twinkled on I thought,
‘Wait,
you should stop, look, and listen,’
when that little voice at my elbow asks me if I have devoured every morsel of
chocolate in the house I should ‘stop, look, and listen.’ Why is that voice there? Am I stressed out? Am I angry?
Am I sad?
Yesterday I got hungry, I checked my phone, 10am. Snack time. I mean, it's snack time for my kids, doesn't mommy get one too. Well, Mommy you are no longer growing, and don't go everywhere at a run. I told myself, 'it's okay, just be hungry. You'll live.' I 'stopped, looked, and listened.' I was fine, I made it to lunch. And no one lost their head.
Right
now it’s the end of the day, my husband has left to rip up pergo flooring from
our new house, there is Cadbury bar in the kitchen. That little voice by my elbow has turned from
little girl into full raging monster,
‘Finish It!’ I hear,
like that voice in Mortal Kombat.
Why? Because my husband is gone I
feel like I deserve a treat? The girls
went down easy, in fact I had a nice time playing with Emma before she went to
sleep. Is it because I am alone? But here I am finishing a blog that I’ve been
intending to write for days. I’ll try
some of Terkeurst’s tricks, praying, reciting scripture. Realizing that maybe I’m not as stressed as I
think I am.
I keep thinking that I
should just let myself eat whatever I want until I am through with all the
transition that we have. So much stress,
just eat it. But then life is
stressful. All the time. There’s always something. I’ll just let myself until my kids are in
school…I’ll just let myself until summer…