Plummeting willpower

So, someone around here had the dumb idea this week to start eating a little more healthy. This is always a fun way to assess just how horrible my self-control really is. Every few months or so I set myself up in this trap just to make sure I'm still really bad at being on any sort of health-kick for more than approximately 42 hours.

I see those people at showers and get-togethers who pass by the bakery and chocolate like it's no big deal as they load up their plates with tomato slices and grapes. The same ones who eat granola and fresh fruit for breakfast and lay claims to things like, you know... I never really cared for triple-chocolate-turtle-cheesecake. They run, like, fifteen miles a day and buy running shoes and running shirts to actually wear for, uh, running rather than marathon cleaning sessions when company calls and says they'll be there in ten minutes. Well, every once and awhile I aspire to be like them. Usually with no real plan in mind. Let's wing it- yeah! Let's get HEALTHY.

So, as expected, I started off the week with a vengeance. Measured out my cereal, chopped up veggies, bought some hummus, and baked some ridiculously healthy brownies made of carob powder, whole wheat flour, and I'm pretty sure nothing else. Willpower made of steel on day one. With extreme effort, er, with natural instinct to make the right choice I went for a snack of broccoli and carrot sticks with guacamole- knowing full well we had vanilla ice cream in the freezer, hot fudge in the fridge, and real right out of the box full fudge brownies in a 9x13 on the counter. Congratulated myself up and down, I did.

On Tuesday, I continued my veggie-munching, whipped up a grilled chicken-something-or-other for lunch, and guzzled water to the point that I can't really remember what else I did besides run to the bathroom all day. On Tuesday evening I had myself a tiny hot fudge brownie sundae. Oopsie daisy. No biggie. I'm not all for deprivation, you know.

By Thursday I was eating at McDonald's with the family. Oh yes, I was. And I can't even brag and say I ordered a grilled chicken snack wrap because that would imply that I didn't snitch half of the kids french fries or nibble on those yummy grease-coated, over-processed, chicken nuggets that supposedly contain zero percent chicken or something like that as I tore them up for the young ens. It would not have surprised me in the least had I started jumping up and down and begging for ice cream afterwards with the kids.

Thursday was also the day we (and when I say 'we' I really do mean my husband and I) baked bread. It wasn't my idea. He wanted to, and I was so giddy with disbelief that he seriously wanted to bake bread that I happily agreed, telling myself I could not be held accountable for any slip-ups on the diet exchanged for a chance to create such a rare piece of history. Anyways, that's another story. Homemade bread is always a killer. I can stay away from store-bought bread pretty easily. But, homemade? Cinnamon swirl homemade?

Apparently if you're trying to eat healthy there's a few things you shouldn't do. One of them is frequent fast-food joints and the other is not bake yeast-filled lumps of cinnamon-y-sugary goodness. The smell alone will drive you to such extreme madness that you will not be able to control yourself or the hunger you have attempted to ignore and deny all week. The results will be catastrophic. Lesson learned.

Let's all hear it for will-power, shall we? I can hardly wait to find out how Saturday goes.