I had a weak moment the other day at work and indulged in a pop tart. My boss who is a health nut skinny freak saw me and grabbed the pop tart and read the ingredients in front of my colleagues. It was embarassing and I wanted to hit him or something. I think even though I've had gastric bypass...I'm still human. Sometimes a fat free yogurt or handful of nuts isn't going to taste as good or make me feel as good as a poptart. I know that the pop tart is junk...but I also know sometimes you just have to eat the damn poptart.
After Lent I had a brief lapse of sanity when my boyfriend brought me all kinds of goodies from England. Of course I had to try them, and stuff from Cole's Easter basket, and there was the fact I was on vacation and eating tons of foods I normally wouldn't. So I fell off the wagon...so to speak.
However, I'm trying again. Now that it's warming up we're going out more to the park, and moving more, which is my goal this year....fun playing frisbee, walking with Cole while he scooters, swinging on the playground swings, playing basketball....it's fun now that it doesn't hurt.
I went to the circus and sat in those stadium seats and was actually comfortable for two hours and didn't feel like I was taking up any of the personal space of the person next to me...now that's an effing triumph after 10 years as a morbidly obese person.
I just have to keep reminding myself of these small victories when I get down about my weakneses with sugar. Nobody's perfect, and as I read on First Ourselves the other day, beating ourselves up is just an excuse to continue behaviors we're not proud of....no more beating myself up...just trying to take better care.
