Sorry kid, there are just some things that can't be helped.

I was in Value Village a couple of months ago going through the kids books when suddenly I spied a thin blue hard-covered book. "Miss Mopp's Lucky Day" it said on the cover. Could it be? My heart began to beat faster. I opened it up and there were little yellow cupcakes with pink icing and a strawberry on top all over the inside cover and facing page. I flipped eagerly past the printing info and dedication pages and there on page one was a picture of Miss Mopp in her kitchen with cakes cooling on the counters. Once upon a time I had owned this story. I'm not sure when it disappeared out of my life but it was one of my favourites as a child. An incredible find! I loved looking at that page of cakes cooling on the counters waiting to be packaged up and taken to town to be sold in Miss Mopp's cake shop. I thought they were the most beautiful cakes I had ever seen and I spent an inordinate amount of time carefully inspecting each one imaging they would taste as wonderful as they looked. Side note: adult eyes are not nearly as full of wonder as a child's.

Losing this Christmas huskiness would be alot easier if I didn't love food so much, if I wasn't, in fact, all about the food. I wish I was one of those people who thought about food in terms of fueling their bodies and in terms of health and strength. Instead, my thoughts about food tend more to the entertainment, comfort, reward side of the scale. Baby and bridal shower invites spur thoughts of "well at least there will be food." I specifically designate things as my "nap-time indulgences" even going so far as to time cookies and such to beep about five minutes after all the kids have gone down for naps. I am the kind of person who goes to bed looking forward to getting up the next day so I can have breakfast. Then even as I am eating breakfast I am dreaming up lovely combinations for lunch. Reading cookbooks is enjoyable, even anticipated, as I do my menu plans. As soon as the blessed hour of bedtime arrives and I kiss the kids goodnight I head straight to the pantry to reward myself for yet another hard days work molding the future of our country. In the back of my mind is a constant cataloguing and inventory of the holy trinity, fridge/freezer/pantry, and contemplation of all the separate and combined delights they have to yield. All this wouldn't necessarily be so bad if I could at least make up for it at the other end. You know if I liked to exercise - or just plain did some. Hello, Burpee Fiasco anyone? I just really, really hate exercising and I really, really love food.

And so what is to be the fate of my muffin top? Daily I decide I'm getting back on the wagon and I determine to make a true attempt to exercise the muffin top away. But at the end of the day all I've done is ice it with buttercream frosting. This is depressing but in the spirit of full disclosure I'm not even sure if I want to change. As previously mentioned I really, really like food and I'm just not ready to take such drastic measures as *gasp* limiting my daily sugar intake. I think it's safe to say I haven't reached rock bottom yet. Or swimsuit season.

I do not want my kids to have my food issues and I have tried to be very careful to help them cultivate a healthy relationship with food. I never use food as bribes for behaviour or rewards and I never talk about my weight or body issues around them. Last Sunday at church Ava was out of sorts. She spent the first part of church crying because she wanted it to be time for kids church and then when it was time for kids church we stood outside the door while she cried that she didn't want to go in. "Ava look at all your little friends in there waiting for you. Don't you want to go play with them?"
"No-ohhhhhhhhh. I want to stay with you-uuuuuu."
"But honey you've been looking forward to playing with your friends all morning. Why don't you go in? I know you'll have fun."
"Wellllllll....What snack is it today?"