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Sunday, October 4, 2015

What to Do When The GREAT Donut of Temptation Comes Knocking On Your Door (and What Not To)


Rule 1 : Don't go shopping when you are not altogether mentally stable. This includes sleep deprivation and hearing voices, especially Miss Belly Fat voices.

Case in point, I was kind of "set up" by my own adipose tissue. It often rebels against my better judgment, floats to my brain and takes over my ability to reason out of good shopping decisions. In this case, I had worked a 12 hour night shift after going to town early and running allot of errands. I was tired and she knew she'd have that edge on me. Cunningly, she started whispering "donut" ever quietly in my subconscious. Valiantly, I shopped with the utmost honor. Okay, I am lying. I started off with a sugary latte and felt too guilty to add a donut to my ever expanding hips. The latte, I reasoned, would keep my brain in check. I had a birthday party to grocery shop for and that would require a lot of brain power which was sadly registering "low" on my meter of brain activity.

After spending over an hour trying to figure out what to buy and finding the best deals, I realized that I was going to end up paying waaaay too much for ice cream if I didn't go to the other grocery store in town. I just can't stand to spend too much on anything and with great reluctance, I knew I'd have to drive over there. I congratulated myself on leaving the store without a donut. Lurking in the back of my subconscious was Miss Belly Fat reminding me that donuts could be had at the other store. My accomplishment was short lived.

After successfully finding a great deal on BREYERS ICE CREAM, I gloated across the store to the end, waltzing if you will, past the bakery section until my eyeballs almost popped out of my head. Sometimes I wonder if my love affair with sugar, salt and fat is as bad as how men feel about curvy women. There, across the store, my heart began doing flip flops. I saw an ENTIRE SHOPPING CART LOADED TO THE TOP WITH DONUTS OF EVERY VARIETY. A baker boy was throwing in more by the minute. I sashayed up to him and asked him nonchalantly if these were samples. "Nope" he said. "Sale?" "Nope" he replied again patiently. I was losing my patience and charm a bit. There was an edge to my tone which I tried to cover "well what are they for?" I demanded. "Pig Farmers" he explained, going on to tell me that he could only give them to people with livestock. He said day old donuts were not for human consumption by order of the store policy. Wheels were turning in my head, and after convincing the boy that I, too, was a pig owner, the wheels of the donut overloaded shopping cart were wheeling right out of the store toward my Tundra!!!!

Once I got there, a large sticky problem presented itself. I did not have the strength to lift the gigantic bag of pastries into the truck. Every time I tried, the bag started ripping, which was the last thing I wanted to happen. After making a big scene trying to tip the cart into my passenger seat, a kindly man noticing my dilemma rushed over to help. I informed him that I was having an " I Love Lucy Moment". He smiled and helped me lift the gigantic donut of temptation into the Tundra where it took up the 2 front seats which I was not sitting in. As soon as I thanked him, Miss Belly Fat strategically took over my entire brain for a very short time. I morphed into one of my pet pigs and well, something very disturbing happened. Minutes later, I woke up with sticky fingers and realized I was attempting to drive down the road in a sugar coma. I hurriedly pulled over not wanting to explain to an officer that I was euphoric on the mother load of day old pastries. Sitting in that church parking lot was a sign of the 10 Commandments, and I was pretty sure that I was in some state of transgression. This was bad, really bad. There was no removing it either. It was going to ride ALL THE WAY HOME with me and I knew I was a gonner for sure.

I mused, as I hit the open highway. Sadly and Ironically, I had spent a fortune on Fancy Smancy Non GMO feed which was taking up the entire back of the truck. Only the best, healthiest stuff for our pigs. On top of that was a futon which I found at a thrift store for my son's birthday. Again, the Great Donut of Temptation riding shotgun. Try to picture me driving down the road in a sleep deprived state, with all of this going on.

I busted in the door like a mad woman demanding my husband grab the camera quickly. He was quite leery, being well versed in his wife's "Lucy Moments". He did not look pleased. For the past hour, I'd been practicing facebook profile pics with my mother load into the rear view mirror. He rolled his eyes and asked me "WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!" He had envisioned worse and didn't seem too disturbed. My children went berserk and stayed berserk. Since I went to bed shortly after posting my new facebook profile pic, they were free to help themselves to the spoils. My husband did feed the pigs, but I fed myself, the kids and the neighbors kids, a visiting friend or two, my dog, and quite unfortunately added some thick winter padding on my rapidly expanding hips.

Today, a few days after what Moonbeam calls "one of my favorite childhood memories", I begged my husband to give the rest of it to the pigs. I could no longer take having it in the house. The sugary smell never stopped calling me and Miss Belly Fat kept reasoning that they'd still be good if I warmed them up in the oven. Thankfully, I never stooped to such dastardly deeds, largely because Catman's left over birthday cheese cake seems to beckon louder from the refrigerator with most passing moments............................

Every Tuesday, I run with a pack, just like a wild dog. Its a pack of very wild women who kick the crap out of me. I am huffing and puffing and Miss Belly Fat trembles in fear and agony. My hips remind me that I am only getting older. My gut wretches. My bladder threatens to let loose, BUT, oh yeah, and my butt, well she jiggles into oblivion. My wings rub and chafe. I sweat what smells like an old bakery. I could go on, but I'll try not to give you any more mental pictures of such atrocities. As I was saying, EVERY TUESDAY this doom awaits me. Days beforehand I consider what my diet is consisting of and I am reminded that if I eat crap, I will feel even crappier on that day. I am hoping that this and the sight of myself in a bikini will whip me back into shape. After my donut binge, I am making strides toward healthier eating and less fat on the horizon......... Case in point, rule 1 addendum : Do Not Attempt to Secure Grocery Carts Full of Donuts for Your Live Stock

Pregnant Summer Days.....

May, June, July and August awakened some kind of life back inside of me. Archer, his Ali Cat and baby "The Big Y" along with Saphira arrived full of energy and passion for enjoying The Yaak. They'd been cooped up in frosty Minnesota for 9 months in college classes and all they could think about was camping and hiking and playing in the forest.

We hiked hard, camped hard, played hard all summer. We enjoyed many fine dinners with good friends. We spent endless summer days at the little local lake and embarked on many adventures to Lake Koocanusa, which is like a tropical paradise except for being in Montana. Saphira and I snuck away some evenings and came back stinking like fish after sitting outside in the dark gutting them. Then we'd fry up the whole mess and eat a late night dinner of lake trout. We helped with an elegant wedding - I served tables while Saphira was a stunning maid of honor. We also hosted the event of the summer with Art Dog's Home School Graduation/Birthday Party. Over a hundred people showed up and it was quite the shindig complete with kids playing music, wrestling tournaments in the dirt and a really shocking array of individuals.

Archer and Ali Cat cut wood for locals to make a little spending money and I got the privilege of watching Big Y. He came to MT with a sweet disposition, barely toddling around and left running and screaming and had developed a lot of attitude. He is the most monstrously built 1 year old I have ever seen. He's not just chubby, he's like a solid tank with pretty blond hair and big blue eyes. He scans for food constantly, almost as if he is on the prowl. Anyone attempting to eat anything must conceal the matter quite privately or you must reckon with him. I also have never seen a baby that loved to eat like him. I could always count on him to pack away smoothies or fresh bread or whatever I happened to have on the stove. The only fickleness he showed was to greens which he spread about the house as if for decoration.

Saphira and I did a little running and we halfway trained for the Long Bridge Swim, but for the most part we enjoyed good food and joked about getting "beer bellies", though we really didn't drink all that much beer. By the end of summer my weight had gotten completely out of control, but I figured I could work on it after the kids left. Suddenly, none of the pants in my drawer would snap and I felt about as bloated as a blow fish. I frowned in the mirror and wondered if I'd really eaten "that much". Then I started cramping my brain to figure out when my last period was. I drew a blank........................ There were several times when I thought it might have been, but no clear memory to go on. Frantic to justify my newly acquired belly, I bought a dollar store pregnancy test - just thinking I needed to get that idea out of my brain. Hurriedly I rushed into the thrift store bathroom to find out. It never registered anything. Next I borrowed a test from my already expecting Ali Cat. She laughed and gave me an extra one she had. I accidentally peed on it backwards and the control window never showed up. Finally on the day the kids were leaving back for college, in desperation, I had rode in to town with the Archer to help him pick up some car parts. This time I bought 2 tests just to be sure. This time they both worked and left me in a state of shock and disbelief. Maybe my big gut was really justifiable!!! What if a large baby was growing in there? What if I'd been pregnant half the summer? What if it was twins, triplets or an alien from Mars? Soon my mind was reeling and I was speculating all kinds of scenarios unfolding.

At long last, a week later, my patient husband drove me to the big city to see a midwife and get to the bottom of this shocking surprise. By now I'd taken 5 HCG tests and the ones that worked were ALL POSITIVE. The midwife was very kind and diplomatic. My husband seemed to know more of the answers to her questions than I did. At long last she sent me into an ultra sound to get to the bottom of the big mystery surprise. There in the 7 year void which I thought was going into early menopause was an ever so tiny 5 week old 2 day home which a tiny baby was forming in. The staff all smiled at me patiently. We all laughed about me not being able to justify Miss Belly Fat and celebrated that once more I would partake in motherhood................................

I guess the summer was good for me in many ways. Where I started out feeling really purposeless and lost, I ended up feeling enriched with the time I got to spend having my whole family together again. I turned cocoa brown in the sun and felt content to feast on fresh trout and swim the waters I've swam so very many times. I laughed hard, lived well and ended up full of life on many levels.

At our girls group, the girls came unglued and began laughing hysterically when they heard the news. Everybody seems to be thoroughly shocked but joyful about the whole thing. The idea is still sinking in for me, but I know this is God's surprise gift for me and that He always has a good plan with a hope and a future.

A few weeks after I wrote that post, I miscarried. I really liked writing this story, so I am going to go ahead and post it anyway. I just needed some time.................