15 or Bust….Phase Two….The Cleanse.
A few weeks ago, I made the decision to commit myself to achieving a healthier lifestyle. However, there was no way I was actually going to do anything about it before the Thanksgiving holiday had passed. The idea of a fat free, low sodium, low cholesterol, no sugar added….yes, I can totally believe it’s not butter….kind of holiday meal….made me want to die a thousand deaths via a turkey baster.
But, that particular holiday has passed….and my waistline can’t wait until after Christmas to jump on the New Year’s Resolution weight loss bandwagon….so it’s officially time to develop a plan to attack the fat. I’m calling my fitness journey, Operation Dump the Frump.
Step one: Weed out the cabinets.
I’m not the type of person who believes that because I’m on a diet of sorts, everyone else should be too. By weeding out the cabinets, I do not mean to imply that I grabbed a trash bag and summarily dumped out every potato chip bag, package of cookies and piece of candy that could be found.
No, what I did was toss my secret stash. It’s the stuff that has, over time, been pushed to the backs of the cabinets and forgotten by the children and husband I share my home with. I’m talking….Halloween candy from trick-or-treats past….miniature chocolate Santa’s and Christmas M&M’s from stockings of yore…. Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs and Cadbury Eggs from Easter’s no one remembers and packages of Fun Dip and Pixie Sticks from the birthday party goody bags given out by old friends.
See, I’m not the mom who steals that stuff when it’s still fresh. I wait until the very short attention spans and somewhat limited long term memories of my children have made it all fade away….out of sight, out of mind like….then, I casually push the items into the deepest recesses of the cabinets where it becomes my little secret. In the event any of them happen to remember a particular treat, I just laugh and say, “Oh, wow, you ate that a long time ago. You don’t remember?”
It’s the stash I turn to when PMS is being real bitch, or when I’m bored hungry or when my blood sugar plummets after a long day of being a full-time everything and I forgot to eat.
It was the store from which I would pull out the random king size Milky Way and saunter into the living room with it hanging from my mouth, prompting my husband to say, “Where did that come from?” and I would say, “Oh, forgotten Halloween candy” and he would say, “Is there anymore?” and I would say, “No” and he would believe me….because he unfortunately trusts me. But, it was time to let it all go.
After my loot had been pulled from the cabinets and laid out on the kitchen table, I felt bad about the idea of throwing away perfectly good “food.” At the same time, there was no way I was going to alert the kids or my husband to my hidden bounty. Who know’s when I might decide to stock-pile again and I can’t alert them to my thieving ways.
I thought about maybe posting the items to my town’s Yard Sale Group on Facebook, because people are always posting their most random crap for sale there.
Scanning the items on my kitchen table, I thought about what my post might say:
Free Porch Pick-Up!
1 Yoda Pez Dispenser with 8 pieces of cherry? Pez
14 and 1/2 Candy Canes circa Christmas 2012?
Assortment of Halloween Gummy Body Parts – 7 Ears; 2 Eye Balls; 3 Severed Feet; 12 Femur Bones, 1 Combination Mouth/Teeth – Halloween 2010 for sure.
4 Candy Necklaces – Origins and Age Unknown
1 Earless Chocolate Easter Bunny
1 book of Christmas themed Life Savers….old, but probably still edible.
2 very hard and maybe not edible packages of purple Peeps. (I kind of assumed those things were like Spam…never expire….but, with the right amount of saliva, they could maybe soften up again).
A shit ton of assorted chocolate miniatures from the combined holidays of our blended life. (I feel like this last sentence makes it all sound sort of pretty and nostalgic.)
After much thought, I decide to forego the idea. The people in this town only vaguely know me and I’m kind of walking a thin line as it is, so no….no post.
Then, I seriously consider eating it all in one, final, glorious feast of gluttony.
I could spread it out on the living room coffee table, plop down on the couch with whatever is playing on Bravo and gorge myself.
My fingers caress the rumpled and torn packaging of my sweet treasures and they sweep across the crumbling foil wrappings that are quite possibly disintegrating and with a heroic amount of self-control, I sweep it all into the trash. Mostly, because no one is home to call 911 for me should I slip into a diabetic coma.
All right. I’m committed. Let the challenge begin.