We didn't have a lot of sweets in my house when I was growing up. My mother explained that she had a mouthfull of gold because she was an only-child being raised by her grandmother who owned a boarding house that was within walking distance of drugstores with soda fountains . "If I wanted a chocolate soda at 10:00 at night, I'd have a fit and somebody would go buy one for me."
Despite my mother's efforts, I became a sugar addict anyway. My fondest childhood memories somehow almost always include sweets. The time we came home from the Christmas parade and our mother had tried to make fudge but it hadn't hardened, so we plunged in with spoons in hand, the fudge still warm, grainy, graced with the butter she'd used to grease the oval china platter she'd gotten from the Lion Oil Company.
The thin mints Virginia Bryant would buy from Dinstuhl's, so prim and proper, pastel-colored, the size of a half-dollar. They melted in my mouth at the perfect rate -not so fast as cotton-candy, another marvel, but faster than hard candy or Slo-Pokes. Lying propped up in my parents' bed watching TV, sucking on a foot-long, quarter-thick peppermint stick, rejoicing that it would last for hours.
Petit-fours at showers. Penny candy from the Handy-Pantry, lovingly and carefully selected. Sorting, counting, rating, and trading Halloween candy. Eating candy-corn one color at a time. Unrolling Swiss rolls. Eating a Hostess cupcake that had sat in the sun, warming the cream inside. Warming an ice-cream sandwich between my palms so that the ice-cream squished out just enough to lick a mouthful.
And I'm just getting started. It's ridiculous how much I can vividly recall about eating sweet things.
I've never managed to break this addiction. About a week ago for three nights in a row, I indulged in bowls of Captain Crunch and Cocoa Krispies. Numerous bowls. Just before bed. After feeling lousy all day after the third night of that, I finally came to my senses and decided something had to change.
So what do you do when you need to bolster your resolve? You research. Where best to do that? YouTube, of course. I listened to an hour-long lecture on the evils of sugar by Dr. Robert Lustig, and I made a decision: Cold turkey. No more sugar on a daily basis. (A couple of years ago I had tried to limit my sugar intake to no more than 9 teaspoons a day, but that didn't last long.) I decided to allow myself one dessert a week, Thanksgiving being the day of choice for that first week.
I already feel better. I've even lost a pound amid Thanksgiving feasting. There are plenty of other things to eat, things I would bypass with disdain as I reached for another cookie, like a banana slice with peanut butter, a piece of home-made whole-grain bread toasted and buttered. Popcorn with butter. (Goodbye, Kettle-Corn.)
The only problem was coffee. I only have one cup a day, but I want it sweet. I tried Equal, then Stevia. Both tasted awful to me. I decided to allow myself one teaspoon which I had today. It didn't reignite cravings, so I think I can keep that up.
I have a feeling I might need a support group. Anyone interested in joining me?
2 comments:
"Eating candy-corn one color at a time."
Man, can I relate. Mama told me within the past year that pretty much every day, we'd have a "tea party" when I was little; her making a cake or cookies, or--if time was tight--opening a box of vanilla wafers. But it was consistent. Remembering it now, I have very fond memories of those times. But...
That "victim" part of me would beat her half to death if she weren't my sweet Mama for doing this to me!!! I love sweet things. Earlier this Fall, I told myself I was going to give up sugar and carbs (okay, so that would pretty much leave me dead if done in my usual extremes and, of course, it didn't last). But yes, you've inspired me to try again. And so, I resolve that at least until Christmas I'm going to severely cut back on sugar and then pray for strength through the rest of the holidays.
Thanks.
Don't cut out all carbs. That's not even logical. Since Jesus calls Himself the bread of life, it has to be good for us.
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