So, my hopes for a healthy birthday weren't enough to keep me actually doing it. I have gone over my points every single day this week, and I really wanted my birthday to be a clean slate. I guess today is my clean slate.
It all would have been ok if things had gone according to plan. Planning my meals is the way I can keep from going off track--if I'm hit with a curveball, at this point, I don't know how to respond. So, yesterday morning I was supposed to have breakfast at Communal before I picked up Evie, but she had been pretty rough on my sister the night before and we had a late start to the morning, so we opted to just drive and get her and pick something up on the way. Bad choice, number one.
We stop at Paradise Bakery Cafe. This place became a bit of a problem for me during my pregnancy. I would often stop there after my multiple (thank you pre-eclampsia/gestational diabetes) doctor's appointments and get myself a little something to eat. It was here that I met the lemon zest cookie for the first time, and started a bit of an addiction problem. Stopping here was bad choice number two.
Of course, once we get there, I have quite a few options for a reasonable breakfast. I even think I make a pretty decent choice, points-wise (I didn't, so I learn after the fact) of a breakfast sandwich on a bagel (bad choice number three). But then, I see them. The dreaded lemon cookie. I could indulge myself and get one. You know, a treat on my birthday. It's a cookie for crying out loud, it can't have that many points (it does). So, I let my weaker self make the decision, and order not one cookie, not two, but six. Which means they give me six free. A DOZEN F*CKING COOKIES (pretty sure this counts for bad choice four through 70). I have Vegs split one with me while we wait for our breakfast (yet another bad choice--dessert before breakfast? Come the eff on, Errin).
I inhale my 15 point bagel, egg and cheese disappointment, and of course, wouldn't you know, I want another cookie. So, I have one. I justify this to myself by saying I probably would have had something bad at Communal (I had planned on an omelet and some yogurt--not bad). I manage to get home w/ the kid in tow only having consumed one and one-half cookies.
I drop off four at Bird's house (goodish choice?) and head upstairs to see the damage I've done. I plug everything into weightwatcher's and things are not good. Guess how much each one (ONE) of those cookies had--just do it. Guessed? Yeah. TEN. TEN FREAKING POINTS. That's a meal, folks. And I've already had one and a half, plus my fifteen point bagel sammy. 30 points. On breakfast. Eff. Em. El.
Ok. So I tell myself that I can still manage this day. I won't make strawberry shortcake for dessert, I'll have a salad for lunch--I can do it. I have said salad, sans dressing, for lunch, and have six points left for dinner. This was actually going to work. So I start cooking my polenta for dinner. The mushroom sauce I'm making calls for a tablespoon of cream. I figure that's a reasonable splurge, especially divided among four adult meals.
But guess what? Old, evil, lover-of-rich-and-fatty-foods Errin decided to take charge in the cooking process. As I'm tasting my polenta, I decide there's something missing. So I add a splash of cream. Then another. Then another. Soon I've added a full cup. Then I start making my mushroom sauce. A tablespoon doesn't cut it. So, another cup goes in.
At this point, I've resigned myself to the fact that I have just royally screwed this day. Dinner would have been delicious sans my self-sabotage, but I can't admit that to myself. I had a rough birthday day, and I wanted to make up for it (seriously--the breakfast damage haunted me all day long. Couple that with a baby who wants to make sure I don't leave her again by way of screaming at me all day long and I got to the point where I thought I deserved to treat myself...this is quite damaging, folks. Food cannot, and should not be a reward.) and I let myself enjoy two helpings.
Once everything was cleaned up, thanks to Bird and my husband, I decided to relax and watch The Voice (sidenote: this show is awesome. I love it so freaking much). And as I sit there watching, I am obsessing over the fact that there are five of those cookies sitting on my counter. I should have tossed them all. Instead, I ate two more, and went to bed feeling like shit.
I am so frustrated with myself. I have to keep telling myself that these were bad choices, that I'm not a bad person for making them. That it's not the end of the world. That it doesn't undo all my good work. That food is just food. It's neither reward nor punishment. It is not a marker of the kind of person that I am.
So, I'm back on track today. I'm spending a few days cleaning out my system after this disaster, Easter, etc. I want to be fully off of sugar, not because I want to deprive myself for "messing up," but because I know that it's bad for me, toxic even, and that I want to put good things in my body, because it deserves to be healthy. So, I'm staying off of all sugar for a little bit--no pastas or breads either for a little while, maybe four or five days, just so I can let my body calm down. Basically, I'll be eating a lot of tofu and salad for the next few days, drinking a lot of lemon water and getting myself back to the mindset/way of eating I know is best.