Archive for July, 2011

I haven’t written about Autumn in a long time, but tonight at bedtime she started asking questions about death and I sort of felt the need to bring a little bit of my girl back here to share with you.

She wanted to know who would bring flowers to our graves if all three of us died at the same time. She was very anxious to know the answer and was near tears as she clutched her Spongebob blanket and asked who would be there to mourn us when we’re gone.

I told her if, God forbid, we were all to die at the same time, all the people who love us would bring us flowers. Then she wanted to know who would be around to mourn them if they all died with us.  Apparently our social circle is not the place to be.

This discussion of death led to questions about what happens to our bodies after we die. These are the kinds of questions that trip me up as a parent. I want to be honest, but I don’t want to give the kid nightmares. The other day I told her a certain button on the U-Scan checkout at Walmart was to call security to take away misbehaving kids. I know some day she’ll find out that was a load of crap, but I don’t ever want her to feel she was misinformed when it comes to the really important stuff.

If I was my dad I’d get all clinical and tell her what actually happens to our bodies when we die. Last week he told Autumn that Plankton from Spongebob was actually a paramecium, so I suppose his description of our postmortem existence would involve worlds like “decomposition” and “gasses.” You can take the science teacher out of the classroom, but you can’t ever take the science out of the teacher.

But the kid is five, so I asked her if remembers what food that’s been in the fridge too long looks like and said that’s what happens to our bodies when they stop living.  I told her some people are buried in coffins, though I probably could have left out the bit about cremation because that kind of freaked her out.  And yes, I did try to talk to her about organ donation since that is a subject near and dear to our hearts.

I probably spent a half hour in her room laying in bed with her answering questions. I could have ended the conversation at any time because I am THE MOM, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted her to keep asking whatever she wanted and I wanted to be able to answer whatever she asked.

But I’m really glad she never asked the questions I couldn’t answer because there’s still so much I don’t know.


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Last night I was starving.

Not really starving, mind you, but ravenous.  A chew-the-upholstery-off-the-furniture crazy kind of hungry.

I got home and could not wait for dinner to be ready. I opened up the pantry doors and ate a Weight Watchers Lemon Mousse Pie 2-point bar. Then I had another.

Then I got into the Wonka chocolates. I don’t even know how many of those things I had or why I brought them into my house to begin with.

Then there were the pretzels with the wedge of Lauging Cow cheese.

And finally there was dinner-rotisserie chicken, waffle fries and garlic bread (that was in the oven a little too long).

After dinner we went to the ice cream parlor where I had a small cone of real soft-serve ice cream dipped in chocolate. By that time I was finally full, but I ate the damn ice cream anyway.

The funny thing is I ate all that last night and I still saw my weight go down a little this week. It was less than a pound, but I’ll take it.

I’m not going to beat myself up for the binge or the god-awful 24-point chicken sandwich I had at Burger King Thursday night because I learned from these mistakes. For one, I learned I need to drink more water because I’m pretty sure the persistent hunger I felt all day was due to very little water intake while I was at work.

The second thing I learned is that I will never again order the bacon ranch Tendercrisp chicken sandwich from Burger King.

I also learned that I might be due for a “tune up” with my therapist because I’ve been very successful at sabotoging myself lately.

Did I need to buy two bags and four bars of  Wonka chocolate this week?

I did not.

Who suggested we go to Burger King with their chicken sandwich monstrosities instead of McDonalds, home of the 8-point southwest chicken salad?

I did, and I did it because I’d had a chicken salad for lunch and didn’t want another for dinner. Wah, wah, wah.


I’m also the person who had dinner with her best friend at a great Mexican restaurant last week and ordered the taco plate instead of the chimichanga I really wanted.

I’m the person who had dinner at Red Lobster, ate one Cheddar Bay biscuit when I really wanted two and created my own feast of grilled shrimp skewers and steamed crab legs.

And I’m also the person who still got in five workouts during the week, workouts which apparently saved my ass at the scale today.

I wont lie. Last night really freaked me out. As I was sitting in the chair unwrapping chocolates, I was thinking, “WTF is wrong with me?” Am I reverting back to old habits? Am I going to gain it all back?  But then today I had to remind myself that I made a lot of good choices this week, too. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of the good stuff when the bad  stuff starts making its way back into your life.

I confessed to my Weight Watchers buddy about the binge last night and she said, “Don’t you know you’re supposed to do that after weigh-in?”

Yeah, but I kind of like starting the week over with a clean slate.

That’s the best thing about Saturday.


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