Anyway as I was saying, it was like a carnival of binge eating. It all started with the shopping trip from hell. I had decided to go to the gym before I went shopping, not because of the New Year, new me bulls%^t but because I had checked our bank balance the night before. Don't you just love the feeling of opening your account and hoping to see if you have enough money in it to combat the onslaught of school supplies, uniforms and sign up fees for a whole new year of life draining children’s extra curricular activities or will you have to go and sell a kidney? It’s like the Kinder Surprise of life.
As I looked at the transactions, I saw my gym membership flipping me off. Nothing makes you feel more terrible then seeing a stupid amount of money coming out of your account and knowing you did not get your money’s worth that month and let’s be honest, the month before that.
It’s like a pain stabbing into my black heart, especially when I think of all the money I’m spending at the gym which could equate to me going to Thailand and coming back with a new stomach, boobs and maybe some cool robotic legs so I can run faster.
As I stared at this stupid amount of money, I made a promise to myself that I would go to the gym before I went shopping. I mean, who doesn’t love shopping in sweaty gym clothes, with sweaty gym hair and prolly a camel toe for good measure.
I got the kids up at what would be a normal time but because it’s holidays and my parenting skills are also on holidays, they went to bed late ( for the 30th night in a row) and were not loving life one bit. The 1 year old was though. She was on her morning mission to destroy the lounge room and eat everyone’s breakfast. Squealing with delight, as everyone had to hide to eat in peace. The mood was pretty sh%^ty, so I had to bring out the big guns. I had to do the only thing that makes my children actually pull their finger out and change their behaviour. You guessed it, I threatened no technology for the rest of their lives and it worked a treat. We eventually got to the gym and I felt as unfit as a dirty big sloth (which isn’t surprising when you don’t consistently go). We finished at the gym and I surprised the kids with the announcement that we were going school supply shopping and grocery shopping.
The five year old was practically jumping out of her seat with excitement. You see, It’s her first year of primary school (prep) and she was keen as mustard to get her bag, shoes and other miscellaneous stuff. The ten year old cringed slightly, then asked where we were getting his shoes from.
I don’t blame him really, the poor bastard had a bit of a rough trot with his school shoes last year. We previously got his school shoes from a sports store, as I thought they would be better, being more of a sporting shoe. Oh how wrong can one be. By halfway through the term, the top lip thing (technical term) on the shoe had peeled back causing him to stack it constantly, as it would bend and hit the pavement acting like a rubber stopper.
I tried to glue that baby back up and even resorted to sticky taping but every single bloody day it would come undone.
In term two I had the idea to cut that little asshole off. Yeh great idea d*%#head... All this did was begin the slow process of the whole front rubber part of his shoe peeling off.
By the end of Term Three, his toes were on show. I refused to buy him new shoes because this kid was growing like some type of wayward fairytale beanstalk, so no doubt he would need new ones for the coming year.
So I did what any amazing parent would do. I wrote him a note and made him wear his joggers for the rest of the year. This went down a treat with the rule abiding 10 year old, who was having anxiety over teachers constantly saying “where are you school shoes and why are up wearing these”.
So yeh he was pretty serious about his shoes for 2019.
The 1 year old just replied to the whole matter with a shriek of death and then a toothy smile because she had great plans for the shopping trip. Plans that involved her making it hell for everyone else.
We got to the shops and got a park, which wasn’t at all stressful since everyone else decided to go shopping on this day. This was made worse by the fact my husband had left his mountain bikes attached to the bike holder on the back of the car. Bike on the back means I can only park over a garden, so they dont hang out and get swiped. This means limited parks to chose from. This means stressed me!
Good lord! I prolly could have given the gym a miss with the amount of walking we then had to do, since I had to park a thousand kilometres away.
The 1 year old wasted no time and began pinching my neck, which is her evil way of telling me to put her down. Like hell I was putting her down. Her being at ground level at the shops ends in chaos. Things being pulled out and her running full pelt in the opposite direction to where we want to go.
I knew shit was about to get real. I could feel it in me waters!
The 5 year old found her school bag pretty much straight away and it was love at first Moana blue (her favourite colour) overly expensive bag sight.
She insisted on wearing it on her back for the duration of the shopping trip. The 10 year old decided he would just keep his bag from last year, because it was in great shape ( unlike his shoes and I think he just moved up to Golden Child status). So off we went to get the ever so important shoes.
The 10 year old was very happy with his choice of shoes and I’m pretty sure I saw him trying to rip the front off every one he picked up for quality testing purposes. The 5 year old once again was living out her dreams, as she had her first pair of real school shoes. The 1 year old, who I had no choice but to put down, was now happily eating the insole from someones shoe..... but at least she wasn’t escaping.
I was feeling pretty triumphant at this stage and was mentally giving myself a high five. The 1 year old must have sensed this with her mutant powers and decided that she would not return to the trolley. Literally as I was wrestling her into the trolley like a crocodile in a death roll, the 5 year old insisted in that annoying chipmunk voice that she be put into the trolley because her legs were to tired. So I’ve got a kid screaming to get out of the trolley and a kid whinging to get in... My stress levels were rising.
Once the 5 year old got into the trolley, I felt like I was in some rugby union scrum trying to push the opposition. The stupid trolley did not want to go anywhere I wanted it to go and the 1 year old was not helping by trying to crawl up my arms and neck to get out of the seat. For good measure, the 10 year old started abusing the 5 year old for making it too hard for me ( bless his cotton socks) but then it turned into a yelling match with the 5 year old trying to use her body weight to ram the trolley towards the 10 year old. The 1 year old was still screaming.
I declared the shopping trip over and that we had no choice but to go home. All I could do was give the 1 year old a sleep and go back again.
The 1 year old fell asleep as soon as she was in her car seat but the 5 year old and 10 year old were now arguing over whether laces or Velcro were better. My head was pounding.
We got home and I carried the 1 year old to her cot and just as I carefully laid her little baby Satan body down, she opened her eyes and smiled. Apparently the car trip home was her sleep (10min if that) and she would no longer require a nap. We were all going to die!
I had no choice but to get off my ass and get the groceries because the husband was complaining about there being nothing to eat ( what the stick of butter is not good enough for you???) and I would rather face the shops with devil baby then listen to a lecture about me always doing the grocery shopping the day before he is due to go back to work ( which may be true).
The 10 year old decided he was not coming to the shops and I didn’t blame him and the 5 year old was loudly begging to come because she would never miss an opportunity to hopefully sneak a treat into the trolley. The 1 year old said something that sounded awfully like “goo, goo, gah gah your soul is mine woman!”.
We got to the shops and once again the bikes on the back made my parking choices limited and I cursed my husband under my breath. Once inside the grocery store the 1 year old started screaming cause she wanted the one banana that was in the free fruit basket. The same banana that the 5 year old also wanted but would not share... help me Baby Jesus. So I had to go and buy a single banana. I did briefly think of just grabbing one but knowing my luck, my name would be plastered all over the front of the local newspaper with “frazzled lady in her active wear caught stealing a 89c banana".
I shouldn’t have wasted my money or my time because the second I gave it to the 1 year old, she no joke looked at it and pegged it on the floor.....She then proceeded to scream because she now wanted the grapes she could see. Lord give me strength.
So I did what any stressed out mum who hasn’t had a sugar hit in quite some time would do. I put some caramel brownies in the trolley, ONLY because they were half price on sale. I couldn't go past this bargain. Then I threw in some chocolate brownies because they too were on sale. Then a block of Cadbury chocolate made its way into the trolley. You can see where this is heading. It ended with me grabbing two bottles of whipped cream BECAUSE they were low carb and low sugar and I could have a dollop on my iced coffee (totally not too smother the brownies in).
I made sure I evened out my purchases with lots of veggies and more fruit then usual because I’m a responsible adult like that.
When I finally got home. I was hangry (angry and hungry). The husband had gone out, so I had no one to judge me for the choices I was about to make.
I put the baby to bed because she was tired as hell and then put the groceries away. I decided to treat myself to one tiny square of brownie with one squirt of whipped cream..... nek minute I’m spraying the whipped cream straight into my mouth and also shovelling in brownies like there was no tomorrow. This was the yummiest thing ever. I then moved onto chocolate with whipped cream.
The 5 year old was all up for this whipped cream party and demanded I spray it into her mouth too. So here we were sitting on the couch, just bonding over our sugar fix.
After I had managed to eat the whole brownie I started to feel a bit sick in my guts. The sugar karma Gods were angry. I decided I needed to sleep it off and asked the 5 year old to join me. It was a glorious 2 hour nanna nap/sugar coma.
When I did awake to the sound of the 1 year old screaming to be freed from her prison, I realised it was getting way too late to organise dinner and by late I meant I just couldn’t give a fark. So I was like, meh I already cheated, mose well get some KFC.
The KFC was not glorious, it was actually kinda gross but those chips were on point! 👌🏽❤️❤️❤️❤️
I wasn’t feeling too guilty until the 10 year old piped up “ Mum, I thought you were being healthy again, why are you eating unhealthy food?”... I replied with “ ummm tomorrow I’ll start!” but wanted to say "Who made you the Bloody Junk Food Police, you little turd".
However this is the best part! Guess what, I did????????
I didn’t let it turn into a binge week or more so binge year. It was a one day event and I actually kept it that way and went back to eating my keto and sugar free lifestyle straight away.
I didn’t feel too bad about it. It gave me the realisation that it wasn’t even that good ( I lie, the brownies were to die for) However I had the mentality of new day, new week. New stresses and continuing stresses ( hello children) but I totally got this! This isn't how my brain usually works. It takes at least a week of binging for me to feel content.
My goal this week is to create a low carb, low sugar treat to combat my cravings! Being on this lifestyle shouldn’t be about missing out!
Happy Monday and enjoy your week ❤️