My own personal cookie monster

Leading into week 29, I've hit a new low. I'm telling you about it to avoid having my husband disgrace me publicly, which he threatened to do this weekend. So here goes...

I dug cookies out of our trashcan and ATE THEM.

Now, in my defense, they are my favorite cookies in the whole, wide world and Ben FORCED me to throw them away to keep me from eating the whole box. Okay, well, he didn't actually force me into it, but more shamed me into it by throwing away HIS baked goodies with a vow to be more healthy this year. So I followed suit... and then regretted it. A lot.

You know those fantastic sugar cookies with thick, sweet icing and sprinkles that can be found in just about every grocery store bakery section? Well I found MINIs in our local grocery store last week --tiny little bites of heaven you can just pop in your mouth and let melt like butter. And then wash down with milk. And repeat. A few 5 or 10 times.

So, after my tossing of the cookies (where I could have sworn a tear escaped and ran down one cheek) I thought I was cured of my insane sugar craving. I had will power. I had enough will power to throw the equivalent of baked gold in the trash, which obviously meant I was ready to be on the straight and narrow, the healthy eating path.

I was wrong.

Left unsupervised for the day while Ben went to class, I found myself itching for a fix. I packed away Christmas ornaments and decorations. I did laundry. I watched some TV, ate a healthy lunch and cleaned the kitchen. And then the afternoon lull came. That time when I REALLY need a pick me up. Normally in my old life I'd have two cups of coffee and be off and running. But now, sweet LORD all I needed was a cookie. And as I'm finishing up in the kitchen, I go to throw away a paper towel and right there, right on the top in their perfectly sealed plastic cookie container, are my cookies. I stared at them for probably 30 seconds before digging them out of the trash and popping one in my mouth. Then I felt guilty about it, so I ate another one. I started thinking about how I should probably get rid of ALL the evidence, and I finished the box while wandering aimlessly through the house, moaning and dropping crumbs all over the place. My dogs thought they had hit the jackpot and I was fairly certain I had lost my mind.

When it was all said and done, my stomach hurt and my teeth ached from all the sugar. I felt so guilty I actually CONFESSED ON PURPOSE to my husband, who stared at me for a good minute before just shaking his head and saying "Lizzy, that is just gross." I argued with him that he had no IDEA of the power of cravings but try as I might, I couldn't get him to believe for one second that it was a rationale decision to dig pastries out of the trash for a snack.

I guess I might see his point (although I believe the dogs were on my side as I've seen BOTH of them pick out a select morsel or two when they think no one is looking) and now I know the power of my dark side. New low or not, I now understand that I have very little control over myself in certain situations, and to avoid dumpster diving again during my pregnancy I vow never, EVER to throw away a good treat or sugar filled snack. That is my promise to unborn Baby E, who likely doesn't want to eat anything out of the trashcan either, but sure did love those sugar cookies.