Brooding On

I Was the Lady Tearing Through the Grocery Store Today

I was once introduced to someone as "Ashley, her family grows all their own food."  Believe me, our backyard efforts may decrease our monthly grocery bill somewhat, but if all we had to eat was what comes in the backdoor, we'd be in pretty sad shape.

I had another person ask me whether my kids had ever "been exposed to" high fructose corn syrup, like it's the latest virus going around.

Yes, we make an effort to eat healthy most of the time, but for those of you who think that we are some ridiculously healthy household that wouldn't recognize a trans fat if it knocked on the front door, I offer you this confessional . . .

First, I am a stress eater.  I know this is a very bad thing.  But, when I'm anxious (and can't go for a run), I find solace in the pantry.  And, then the fridge.  And, then more than likely the pantry again.

Confession #2= My name is Ashley.  And I am a candy corn addict. (Maybe I should introduce myself like that.)  The first time this year that I saw them looming there by the cash register (and it was shortly after school started, mind you.  What's up with that?), I had a ridiculously long inner-dialogue.

"Oh, the kids would be so excited if I brought them home some candy corn."

"Who are you kidding, Ashley?  Those kids would never see that bag of candy corn, and you know it."

"I'll just get this one bag and that'll be it for the season.  If I can just get past October 31st, the temptation will be gone for another year."

"Who do you think you're kidding?  You buy this one bag, and you're just breaking the seal.  Next thing you know, you'll be adding it to every grocery list from now until Halloween.  And, before you know it, you're inventing another thing you need from the store just so you can snag another bag."

"Well, would that really be so bad?  It is sweetened with honey, after all."

And on.  And on.  And on.  Suffice it to say . . . I won.  That is, I avoided buying the candy corn that first trip and felt very proud of myself.  So proud, in fact, that I rewarded myself on the next trip to the store with a bag of candy corn.  It's basically been a downward spiral since then.

So today, I'm in the middle of the grocery store when I get a text that sends me reeling.  There are few problems in the world that can't be solved by candy corn.  And, even though this text relayed a problem far too large to be solved by that sweet conical goodness, I had to have them anyway. And, I had to have them right then.  My candy corn addiction had met up with my stress eating disorder and created a perfect storm.

I high-tailed it to the candy aisle.  You've got to be kidding me? No candy corn?  This Autumn Mix mess is not an acceptable substitute.  Surely they have some by the checkout.  No?  I'm turning corners on two wheels as I realize we're about to be late to Little Boy's immunization appointment (a whole other story) and head toward the Halloween costume section.  Surely they keep at least some candy over there -- the very special candy, at least.  No?  Back to the candy aisle.  I'll not put up with any of that chocolate-y mess in the Autumn Mix, but desperate times call for desperate measures as I grab a bag of Mellowcreme Pumpkins.  I'm pretty sure Little Boy was using a judgmental tone as he begged me for trail mix on our way out of the store.

The point of this post is two-fold:  to make you smile and to dissolve any last notion that I am some oh-so-healthy hippie who is above the struggle to eat well.  Believe me, I'm struggling right along with you.  But, I do believe the struggle is worth it.  Here's looking toward Halloween, so that I can finally put this addiction to bed for the year.  At least Thanksgiving just entails one day of gluttony.