It’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times; it’s the holidays! It happens “gradually, then suddenly.” The dreaded weight gain that starts at Halloween and ends New Year’s Day when I go on my annual diet. Never as much a resolution as a tradition. Another year that I have over indulged. I kick it off at Halloween with the satchels full of sugary goodness doled out by the neighbors. No one likes to admit it, but after the kiddos go to bed I pilfer all of my favorite goodies. Almond Joy, Kit Kat, Milky Way mmmmmmm. Just a couple each night, but the residual effects park themselves on my derriere. Don’t think I’m a terrible person, I do it for them. I take one for the team, saving them the unnecessary sugar intake that rots teeth and is making our children obese. It has nothing to do with self control, I do it for them dammit!
Next comes Thanksgiving. Weeks of planning, multiple trips to the grocery store, days of cooking, hundreds spent on food and about 20 minutes of inhalation (followed by a tryptophan induced coma). Then we wake, pile in some dessert, usually more wine too. Easily a 4000 calorie day.
Then within a matter of hours the Christmas candy hits the shelves. My God, all the foils have been changed to gold, red and green! The M&M’s practically sing “Jingle Bells.” I must now buy candy in bulk and have it all over my house. It’s fucking festive, for Christ’s sake (whoops, and so close to His birthday). I tell myself I’ll only have a piece and before I know it I’ve plowed through the entire bowl like a sow feeding from her troth. This coupled with holiday party after holiday party: “libations for everyone”! Shopping in malls crammed full of Far Side people strolling around with their mouths hanging open, the buzz of various languages in the background, children screaming, and Christmas music playing…. This always leads to more libation and usually take out because I’m too wiped out to cook after braving the holiday masses. There is a Christmas feast of course and then a week later New Year’s Eve. I usually work on New Year’s Eve, but even if I don’t, I stay home. We industry people refer to it as “amateur night.” Nothing good comes from going out on that night. But I do generally manage to ingest at least one bottle of bubbles and maybe a pizza. And then I polish off the rest of the festive fucking candy. I suck.
On the other hand I do work out religiously. I love it. 4 days a week minimum, but usually 5. Body Combat, Body Attack, Body Pump, Yoga, Body Flow, Spin, running, swimming, Pilate’s I do all of it and it’s the best part of my day. As big of a glutton as I am, I do try and set a good example for my girls. I do make well balanced meals and show them how to make good food choices. Although they do like their McDonald’s Happy Meal from time to time, they refer to it as “junk.” They know it’s something to have once in a while, not daily or even weekly. They also understand the importance of exercise. I think it’s the one thing I want to drive home with them. If I had worked out as hard in my 20′s as I do now, I would totally have been a Victoria Secret model. Ok, maybe not, I just mean that it is sooooo fucking hard to change this body after all the miles I’ve put on it. I wish I could change my evil eating ways, but I love food and wine. Does skinny really feel better than wine and pizza tastes? I think not!
It truly isn’t a matter of will power, I have that. It’s just a matter of enjoying my life. Does it matter whether or not I look good in a bikini? I’m married, I have babies and my career is not rooted in my looks. I can still put on clothes and look pretty decent. Life is good. On cheese plate, on cheese cake, on stuffing, on venison, on canape, on Chardonnay, on creme brulee, on blintzes… Happy Hole i Daze!