Hi, my name is Brandi, and I’m a stress eater.
(The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?)
I never realized how much of a problem I had with stress eating until (surprise, surprise) I had a kid.
I’ve had a problem all alone, but I never noticed it until the pattern began swinging out of control.
Have we talked before about how being a parent is one of the most stressful things in the world? Because it is. Right?
I’ve noticed that on particularly bad days, my brain is screaming at me to dip a chocolate bar in some peanut butter and scarf it. Or grab some deliciously salty French fries. Or down an entire pint of ice cream.
This morning, when I told the toddler we were going to the store, she ran to my room to grab my old purse. How adorable, I thought, as she slung it over her shoulder proudly.
“Mama’s purse,” she grinned.
When we got to the store, however, she started talking about “funny,” over and over, but I carried on with my shopping, talking to her about funny things.
Finally, I realized she was saying money.
I glanced down to see her holding up a stray quarter that had been relegated to the bottom of the purse, and nervously debated taking it away.
And then she said, “eat the money,” and I jumped for it.
She had a huge meltdown: screaming, throwing the purse, pulling my hair–the works.
As I wrestled her into the car seat, buckled up the baby and myself, I tried to reason with her (again).
She continued screaming.
I drove to Burger King, telling myself I only wanted a fountain Coke; knowing I’d spring for the fries, because I deserved them with the day I was having, and then I might as well just get a meal.
Then I drove past it.
My mind was yelling, “feed me fries and caffeine!”
But I didn’t.
I took a breath, explained to the (now quietly sniffling) toddler why we can’t eat money, promised her we would be nicer to each other (because I don’t always handle tantrums perfectly–what?! I’m not perfect?!), and drove us home.
I made us lunch–ate the leftovers from dinner, put the toddler down for her nap, got the baby down for hers, and ate a mini cookie butter sandwich.
Because I’m totally not perfect.
I stress eat. But I’m working on it.
So I’ll stop whining, and wine tonight to little (in this case, very little) victories.
What’s your “something to w(h)ine about” this week?
(If it’s stress eating, I’ll wine for us both!)
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