Eating Disorder Tuesday

Tuesday rolls around again, as it always does, waking me with the promise of . . . food.  As those in my close circle of friends know, it's Eating Disorder Tuesday, and I couldn't be happier.

Please know that I mean no disrespect, and I mean NONE, to anyone who has suffered a real and true eating disorder.  I have not suffered any such disorder, except for the fact that I tend, for the most part, to eat in a disorderly fashion.

But because it is January, and vacation season approaches, I am, of course, dieting.  So from Wednesday through Monday, I am being perfectly perfect with my diet (within reason.)  On Tuesdays, I wake, weigh myself, and then eat.  It's not really crazy-weird-eating, but I might enjoy some fast food on a Tuesday, or a candy bar.  Or both.  And I have a diet Coke for sure, especially since I'm trying to avoid soda during the week.  And this particular diet-season, I've lowered my calories and I've even kicked my work-outs up a notch by throwing in a hike (or two, or three) each week.  Strangely, I even hiked this morning, on Eating Disorder Tuesday.  In the history of my life, and I swear this on a box of Girl Scout Tagalongs, I have never worked out on a Tuesday, not since my very first Tuesday Weight Watcher's meeting in 1991.  This is certainly a good omen that I'm meant to turn into a Suddenly Skinny Girl this year.  Obviously.  I mean, I'm hiking.  On a Tuesday.  WTF?

I also fell twice this morning when I was hiking, which could be because I didn't actually begin my actual food intake until after I walked (okay, okay, I ate two old donut holes and a Snickerdoodle) but not REAL food, so I think that perhaps I didn't actually fall, but more fainted twice from hunger.   And, the whole trail was covered in solid ice, but since I'm normally Christy Tall and Full of Grace, I blame hunger.

I will post a picture of the bruise and bump on my left knee.  It is the size of Rhode Island.

After a hot shower (during which I swear my ass and thighs were STILL cold from the hike) I enjoyed a lovely lunch with some friends at Aladdins, a middle-eastern restaurant.  A girl can eat healthy there, which I did.  When we parted ways, I had a few errands to run-- bank, drug store, grocery.  And then I found myself wondering, what was going on with me  Chicken in a pita?  Hiking?  It's Eating Disorder Tuesday, and I'm ahead of the game.  I rock.  I'm freakin' hungry.

I finished my errands and drove directly to the McDonald's drive through.  Just for some fries.  Just a treat for the afternoon.  I have two hours until the chickens come home from school, two hours to cuddle on my couch for a marathon of my Tivo.  I have Hoarders, Idol, Intervention, and Days of our Lives.  It's snowing.  I've hiked.  I have some french fries to fulfill the mandate of Eating Disorder Tuesday.

And so, my friends, that is where this story ends.  Me, in velour pants and red flannel slippers, remote, fries and diet Coke.  Pure bliss.

Hey, don't judge me.  I don't make the Eating Disorder Tuesday rules.  Oh, wait. . .

The Spy in my House

There's a spy in my house.  She reads emails, texts, Facebook posts, notes, journals, and diaries.  She listens at doors, eavesdrops on phone conversations and pries without shame into the private lives of those living here.  She know passwords to accounts, pushes open doors, and listens while others are talking to friends.

Oh, I'm good.

Which is how I have uncovered the fact that my daughter is writing about me in her journal.  Things like, "I think my mom and dad are doing it right now.  Ew."  WHAAAAAAATTTT?   But this is not the worst thing I have found.  No, readers, the excellent spy has apparently been duped.

This Christmas,  I finally allowed Abby to read the Twilight series, after two years of her begging and pleading.  We borrowed  the first book for her to read, and then someone gave her the second two books as a gift.  I then actually bought her the whole darn box set of four books that came complete with some bonus material, so she actually had some of the crazy books twice.  I was mother of the year.  She couldn't stop reading.   She was thanking me, kissing me, loving me.  I was a hero.

Then this, from the diary that Super Mother Spy found yesterday.  Note the date.

February 2, 2009:  "I'm reading the most fantastic book.  Breaking Dawn."  The entry went on to describe in detail about Bella's pregnancy, the late period, the romance, and how Abby's friend had let her borrow the book in school, and was bringing her the next one soon.  She wished she "didn't have to sneak them, but my mom wouldn't let her read them."

So she has now owned them twice, and read them. . .um. . THREE TIMES???  And she was faking her excitement when she read them AGAIN in December of 2009????  No wonder she got the lead in her school play.

I turned to my mom, master of handling tween and teen girls.  She told me to pick my battles, and to wait on this one.  Plus, she said, if I did let Abby know that I knew, and more importantly HOW I knew, then I would lose my power to know if she really wrote something important, something that I really might need to know.

I don't read her journals every day.  But occasionally, I peek.  I have to say it hurt my feelings, but I'm letting it go.  It was a book, after all.  Not a huge transgression.  A lie?  Yes.  But life threatening?  No.

I will buy her another box set of the books to present to her at her wedding rehearsal dinner, as a little gifts.  Oh, and to let her husband know what he has in store. . .