I'm working from home today. Double-ear-infection-boy (special power: incessant whining to wear his opponents down) has completely lost it. Funny that, now the infection is on the wane and he's comfortable, he's utterly impossible to live with. Four spankings before 9:30 am does not bode well for a day.
After determinedly driving all of four blocks, I realized that if I dropped him off in his current state, the preschool would be calling me almost immediately to come pick up the child they couldn't work with, because to do so, they'd have to ignore everyone else. I turned around, called the preschool to tell them I love them too much to leave this mess of a boy with them, canceled my massage appointment for the afternoon, and set up my work station on the dining room table.
It's frustrating, and made more so by the fact that my mind uses frustration as an excuse to indulge more in foods that I'm currently trying to avoid or limit. Like beer. Or rich, sweet desserts. I don't know why I see food as a reward for living or putting up with stuff. I just do. It's a hard habit to break, and even though I can still fit into my skinny jeans, I think that has more to do with my inherited body type (non-pear, more apple-shaped) than it does with how much weight I've lost (which, I learned at the doctor, wasn't much - it's just morphed into a different shape of Addie that weighs the same).
It's a frustrating day. I really needed that massage... but at least Blake has now stopped crying in the hour or so it's taken me to write this much. And I haven't had a beer.
It's not yet noon, after all.
1 comment:
This is really funny. And sad. Because, like you, I reward myself with food for almost everything. And nothing. Thank goodness for the skinny jean test. They fit. Reward: Mocha & a cookie.
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