Climbs out of a coma with a question.

 
 It's a few days into spring vacation.  The kids have had sleepover guests, and although last night it went "well," today my daughter wanted to make "something" with her girl friends. 

She found all the ingredients for simple sugar cookies and went at it. Although, I must admit, we were out of vanilla, and we subbed some flavor drops. ;)  I did attempt to talk them into doing something else -- but they like to cook -- and I couldn't think of anything else to make that they'd do alone and without a huge mess.

I am now coming out of a full-blown COMA.  Not a dumping, not a little queasy, a FUCKING COMA. 

I sat down in a chair, and my eyes shut.  I laid on a blanket on the floor.   I tried to "sleep."  I got jumped on.  "Sssh!  My mama's dot a bewwy ache!"

Frankly, if there weren't two additional kids in my house right now?  I would go to bed.  <I saved the post and came back to it later.>

Many things, I can tolerate.  I cannot tolerate BUTTER SUGAR COOKIES.  Why did I has cookies? Because, they were there, and there were warm.  I ate two and I died.  

I always have a warm cookie from the oven if someone else makes them.*  

And, if it's MACAROONS?  I'll take some home, if it's BAKLAVA?  I'll pay for it, like, I mean, how much DO YOU WANT FOR IT?  

READ THAT AGAIN, I AM A WARM COOKIE EATING WLS FAILURE.  (That's your next blog post.) *Unless, of course, they are raisin, because WTF raisins?  EWW!

MM never makes them much of anything on her own fruition.  It's just not worth the effort anymore for ME to make cookies, because I would lick the spoon and pass out in the oven.  I can't even make macaroni and cheese without getting sick.  I will eat some cheese while I am grating it and then, two bites of pasta, and I'm in the chair while it bakes, waiting for death.

Eating is simply a game sometimes.  I have had much, much stronger poison than two pissy little cookies. The reactions really ARE amazing when they are SO DRAMATIC.  

PS.  Someone asked on my Hypo after WLS group:  

"Why do you keep junk food in your house if you are prone to eating it and subsequently getting sick or gaining weight? I read this type of comment a lot and honestly don't understand why you do this to yourself. Just don't buy it."

Um.  Well.  I live with five other people.  

My short answer was basically that I cannot be The Parent to my Spouse, who tends to be the one who buys ANY/ALL "junk" food.  That's it.  I don't need the fights.  

I have spent YEARS throwing shit away, and I still do.  

Thankfully, he has cut it down to a less frequent practice.  But, when stressed, he will come home with food. He works in a bank inside a grocery store:  and is surrounded by food ALL DAY LONG.  

 
 The other day, we got a letter from the IRS.  

"Hi Mr. + Mrs. MM, There Was A Mistake, You Owe Us Many Dollars."  

He came home with two bags of Goldfish Crackers, one empty, a cornbread, a coffee, and a donut.  I have no control over him, his shopping and his habits.  

"Why do I keep it in my home?"  

I don't.  I haven't.  I try not to, at least.  I try not to spend my grocery dollars on food that might keep me running to the cabinet.  

Because of this?  There IS a short list of foods that I truly WILL. NOT. BUY.  and on it are things like, potato chips.  I cannot be trusted.  I will eat them.  They will eat me right back.  Other things?  Ice cream. 

"But, OMG YOUR KIDS?!  THEY DON'T GET ICE CREAM!?"  Nope.  Sorry.  Not in my house.  Believe me.  They're not missing out.  We are all still overweight, without ice cream, potato chips, Cheetos, Fritos, packaged cookies, sugary cereals, etc.  

And, you know what?  Playing food popo has backfired quite a bit in the last seven years.  Just saying.

And, because of my Extra-Special-Guts?  I can have the same reaction from a POTATO or PLATE OF LETTUCE as you might expect from a bowl of ice cream!  Even if I keep all the naughty foods out of my house, I may get sick on GOOD, WHOLESOME foods.  

Because Gawd knows I could use more food guilt.

I mean, sure, the answer to happy hypoglycemia may lie in eating nothing but meat and cheese seven days a week or a glucose bag dripped directly into my remnant stomach, but then?  I'd probably buy Cheetos just to lick them.

And, you?