After running here, running there, disappointments and frustrations, I got the kids in bed and sat down to eat my pre-packaged, less-than-300-calorie meal. I counted up my leftover calories, and figure I have more than enough for a nice piece of wheat bread, toasted warm and slathered with the creamy, nutty, chocolately sweet goodness that is Nutella.
The more I wanted it, the more I became frustrated with myself. I wanted, needed and DESERVED to treat myself, didn't I? I could almost taste it.
I opened the fridge and thought a beer sounded dandy, too.
I admitted to myself that I was not hungry and I was totally in the midst of an emotionally-charged eating crisis. And I felt like punching myself in the face, disgusted.
I brushed my teeth.
I connected with God.
And I avoided a Nutella on Toast today.