I Used to Hate Food...Those Days are Over!

Heather would tell you that I've never been a big eater. I've been told I eat like a bird. I've even been imitated by a friend who would peck at this plate at lunchtime and say, "Hey you guys, who am I?" The things normal people do, like snack in the evenings during TV time, I've never done. Sometimes I'd actually skip meals because it was inconvenient to eat; what with all the pulling crap out of the fridge and trying to find the mustard. On occasion, when I've gotten so hungry that I knew I needed to eat (to survive) I'd eat a few pieces of bread. Easy. Filling.

I've heard Heather say things like, "Just once it would be so great to hear YOU say, 'Oooo, let's stop at Dairy Queen!'" Or, "How do you sit there for 3 hours straight, watching TV and not once get up and walk to the kitchen?"

Okay, so that was then.

This past summer I began to face some pretty big issues in my life. (None of your business. This is not that kind of blog, sheesh!) I had heard of "comfort food" but had never experienced what it was to gaze at a bowl of ice cream romantically.

To be honest, it started with a little sugar here, and a little sugar there. And before long, it was a little sugar everywhere, and things began to get out of hand. I was eating up all the kid's lunch snacks, and arguing with them about it. "Chloe, is that the last cereal bar? Give it here. Now!" That sort of garbage. This past Halloween was like Christmas for me. I ate so much candy but never got sick. In the past I've always been one to throw the halloween candy away after a couple weeks or so. And I had plans to throw it out, but instead hid it in the garage just in case.

This last Easter I actually ate peeps! Which have always been pure nastification to me. But these were purple peeps, which I hadn't seen before, and for some reason they just looked...so...tasty, and...delectable. Heather showed me how to eat them. I didn't know eating peeps could be plotted and planned, but I was wrong. First you tear out their eyeballs with your fingers. Then you bite their little heads off and suck on them for about a minute or so. And then you shove the rest of the nisty-nasty marshmallow and sugar baby chicken body in your mouth. Mmmmm!

Okay, so. Ice Cream. Love it. I eat BIG BOWLS OF ICE CREAM. Big ones. And I usually go back for a refill, or if I feel bad, I just pull out the box and eat it at the counter because that doesn't really count.

I was at some friend's house not too long ago, and they asked me if I wanted some ice cream to which I replied, "Yes please." When she brought it to me, I guess it was probably what most people would consider a normal bowl of ice cream, ya know, a couple scoops or so. Alright. This is how I know I'm a little out of control. I was mad at her. No kidding. I was seriously irritated when she brought it to me. Like what was I supposed to do with this tiny little frickin' bowl of ice cream? I'd rather not have any thank you very much.

But I ate it up. Cookies and Cream.

So tonight I learned something new. I'm guessing that some of you may already know this, but these are things I'm learning, feeling, craving, for the first time in my life. So tonight I opened up the tub of Ice Cream. I was about to start the horrible task of digging it out with the big spoon ( great exercise) when I thought, "I don't feel like digging. I'll just eat out of the box and put it back when I'm finished." There was a little over half of a half gallon.

I ate it all. It was Snicker's.

And while eating from the box proved to be convenient, it was not such a good idea. I ate til I was sick. But I was happy - and all my problems disappeared.

I don't plan on doing this forever. I realize that I will need to give this up at some point; and I plan to. But for now, I'm enjoying enjoying my food. Did you catch that? MY food. A warning sign. So let me know if you have any pointers. Not quitting pointers. Eating pointers.