One Sugar-Free Month: Almost-Check

So May has been the month of no sugar (well, almost. There was the cupcake incident, but we try not to talk about that). We had our designated sugar-days, and let me tell you something, I did not feel empowered at all by this experience.

Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be—Jake would disagree because he was the one who listened to a non-stop stream of “I want cookies!” “I want chocolate.” “Just one m&m?”—but it wasn’t easy. I guess it’s sad really that I have so little self-control that I have major trouble saying no to chocolate. There were days where from the moment I woke up to the minute I went to bed, I was thinking about chocolate and sugar. I don’t crave hard candies, or lollypops. We have some lollypops sitting on our dresser from a while ago, and those were never a temptation for me during this experience (an experience which will be officially over at 12:01 tonight. I have marshmallows, and mini-m&ms just for the occasion—I’m making rice crispy treats with mini-m&ms: my ultimate weakness). My main cravings were cake, chocolate, rice crispy treats, chocolate, donuts, chocolate, ice cream, and chocolate. :) Did I mention chocolate? Seriously, some days I thought I was going to lose what little self-control I had and run out to Walmart and buy and entire box of the $0.99 chocolate bars. I would have killed for a kit-kat.

That being said, this experience was definitely a good one though. You’re thinking, “Danica? Are you insane? Didn’t you just tell me about your crazy mad pregnant woman cravings?” (No, I’m not pregnant).

Yes, I did just tell you all that, and it’s all true. Both statements are. Here’s the thing: this was a good experience because I definitely learned something about myself. Remember how I mentioned that we had scheduled sugar days? Well, on these days I felt a sense of freedom. No one could tell me I couldn’t eat something. I could eat whatever I wanted! Well, a particular thing happened on these days. I didn’t crave sugar—I still ate it, don’t get me wrong—but it wasn’t on my mind constantly. As soon as the sugar day was over, I was strong for the next few days…and then the cravings would hit.

So, here’s my thinking: When I’m told I can’t have something, I obsess over it. I’m like a dog; I just get fixated on this one thing and I have trouble focusing, or redirecting my attention elsewhere. If I know that what I was previously told I can’t have (sugar, in this case) is now an option, my mind clears, and sometimes I don’t even want it any way.

Does that make sense?

Well, the countdown to my massive sugar intake starts now: 9 hours and 33 minutes to go.

Things you should know about me if we’re going to be buds

I got the idea for this post from this lovely lady.

1. I’m obsessed with all things small and furry (minus gross things, like spiders). I want a cat or a dog so bad.(This is Bigotes, a fine furry friend. You can read about him here and here.)

2. I’m completely terrified of being responsible for another living being—like that cat or dog that I really want. 

3. I’m especially terrified of having a baby some day. I mean, I know I will have a baby because there’s too much in me that wants one to let my fear get in the way, but just so you know, I’m mortified.

4. I have an irrational fear of zombies. I can’t watch shows with zombies in them without having nightmares, and when I get really sick (like such a high fever I’m delusional), I get afraid because I see zombies. (I was going to put a picture of a zombie on here, but they were really gross—some where inappropriate gross—and they were really scary…so I didn’t.)

5. I’m growing a Christmas tree. His name is Alfie, based off of this story (start at 3:28, unless you want to watch Miss Piggy butter-up John Denver, which really—who doesn’t?).

6. I cry every time I hear Alfie, the Christmas Tree. (and almost every time I hear a John Denver song).

7. I wish I could live in a loop from the 24th of August to the 15th of January.

8. I love rain, and thunderstorms.

9. I’m a hot chocolate-holic.

10. I can listen to Christmas music year-round and always wish it was Christmas.

11. I’ve recently fallen in love with Bluegrass.

12. I can spend all day watching Murder, She Wrote.

13. Although I’ve only ever published one thing, I consider myself a writer. I try to own it, even though the idea of everyone having access to my book makes me terrified and excited all at the same time.

14. My mom calls me her “little spider” because I knit.

15. I have an obsession with the written word. I’ll read something over and over again, just to get the language in my head.

16. I’m a binger. I binge on healthy eating, on television shows, on writing, on speaking, on chocolate. Moderation is something I’m still learning.

17. I try to be the best kind of friend there is. I try to be there when you need me, and sometimes even before you knew you needed me. I try to always be available, and if I’m not, I feel like I’ve let you down, and I feel awful about it.

18. I second guess my decisions a lot, but I’ve learned to always follow my instinct because that’s Heavenly Father’s way of letting you know what to do.

19. I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and I love the gospel. I try to have my life centered on Christ, although that’s kind of a binge thing for me, just like everything else.

20. I want to learn and be fluent in as many languages as I can.

21. I suck at learning languages.

 

So those are a few things about me that you probably ought to know. If you want to know more about any of them, feel free to ask. :)

Balto vs. Fatty McFatPants

We’ve all heard the old story about how we all have two wolves living inside of us: a good wolf, and a bad wolf (No Doctor Who reference intended). Right? The proverb says that the wolf that wins is the wolf we feed.

Here’s the thing: I’ve got two different wolves in a different fight. My good wolf more or less dominates the bad wolf. No, my fight is between Lean-Mean-Fight-Machine-wants-to-be-fit-and-healthy wolf, and fatty-mc-fat-pants-can’t-even-wear-pants-because-he’s-so-fat wolf. Just picture Balto on the fit wolf side, and an obese couch-potato wolf picking old chips out of his fur because he’s too lazy to get another bag of chips.

Have you pictured it?

These are the wolves that fight inside of me…but it’s not really a fight. It’s more like Balto, standing there looking all majestic, is giving me a “Why You Can Do it Too!” Pep talk, and fat wolf is like, “Nah, too lazy to fight. Sure, go run. Like that sounds more fun than sitting here, eating all the yogurt in the house and watching Deadliest Catch. Knock yourself out, Kid.” I turn to Balto and say, “You know he has a point. Outside is full of bugs, and outside-ness. We should just chill on the couch. That sounds better.”

Anyway, just thought I’d share, so you were all aware of my inner struggle. I think I’m going to go find some yogurt…

I’m practically Michael Phelps, but with more clothes on (trust me it’s a good thing)

So, I’m good at lots of stuff: I’m a good sharer (it’s a real word), I’m good at procrastinating, and I’m like Olympic gold medal medal good at forgetting.

Being good at forgetting (Well, excellent in my case) has it’s Pros and Cons, just like being good at other stuff does (like, if you were good at wrestling bears, the pros would be that no bear would dare face you, and you’d have all these wicked awesome scars that would have super epic stories behind them. The cons would be that no bears would want to be your friend because you never want to just hang out at watch a movie—all you want to do is wrestle. That’s really the only con I could think of for being good at bear wrestling. I guess if you’re only good at bear wrestling, it’d be kind of hard to find a job after you wrestled every single bear alive. And wrestling baby bears would just be mean.)

Pros of being the equivalent of Michael Phelps, but in forgetting, not swimming (although I can swim. not fast, and not for super long—mostly because I forget how many laps I’ve already done…):
-You forget that Doctor Who has new episodes on Saturdays
-You forget that it’s Saturday

Why are these pros? Because at some point you come across something Doctor Who related—be it a T-shirt, a sonic screwdriver, or the Tardis (in T-shirt, keychain, and mug size), and you’re suddenly reminded that not only does Doctor Who have new episodes on Saturdays, but it IS Saturday! It’s like a surprise every week.

Cons of being the equivalent of Michael Phelps, but in forgetting, not swimming (didn’t I write that already?):
-You forget that you have a lesson to plan for the nine-year-old class for church tomorrow (hello, you forgot it was Saturday, which means you also forgot tomorrow was Sunday).

Now you might think that this is only a con come Sunday morning—like “Doh! *facepalm* I need to prepare a lesson”—but you’d be wrong. The reason that this is a con is because, while you’re celebrating the fact that it’s Saturday and Saturday means a new episode with the Doctor and Clara, your husband will say, “We should plan out lessons before we watch the Doctor.” This is the part where you facepalm, slump your shoulders and say “fine,” and then run off to your room to write about the whole experience on your blog while listening to a cd that has nothing on it, but an hour of the ocean sounds and pretend you’re back home in Hawaii and that the sound is coming from outside.