Better than drinking

Hi my name is Trena and I’m addicted to Carrot Cake. Specifically, I’m addicted to the cream cheese frosting that tops the carrot cake. Seriously, I need to get this under control or those 15 pounds that I still want to lose? If the carrot cake keeps showing up in my fridge with the alarming frequency that it has lately, its going to be more like 35 pounds that I’m wanting to lose.

I was doing really well today in not listening to the siren call of the frosting, even though at one point this morning, I was even in a grocery store where they sell said carrot cake with the cream cheese frosting.

Carrot Cake: Hey Baby–YOU NEED ME–Come pick me up out of the bakery case. I
promise I’ll be good to you. I’m extra fresh–I was just frosted this
morning…

Me: La la la…I can’t hear you carrot cake. I am buying laundry detergent and baking soda (for the seriously funky odor seeming to be oozing out of the kitchen sink–nothing but good times at our house) and yogurt and EVERYTHING BUT CARROT CAKE. I am impervious to your charms. Be gone with you!!

And I even made it out of the store without carrot cake or other junk food. I was SO proud of myself.

That is, until Owen decided that for the rest of the afternoon, sleep was something that either a) he did not require or b) something he would resign himself to, but only for 20 minutes at a time. My beautiful little man has seemingly inherited my need for sleep. Enough sleep = sunshine and rainbows. Not enough sleep = much weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth for everyone in the house until said sleep is had. Owen needs his three hour mid-morning nap. If he doesn’t get that amount of sleep for that amount of time, things turn ugly very quickly. Which is why, even after being so good this morning, I now have carrot cake with cream cheese frosting in my fridge. Listening to someone moan and cry for several hours because they are so tired and unable to fall asleep for more than a 20 minute increment of time and then wake up more grumpy than the last 20 minute cycle…well, it tends to snap all resolve that a person has. I rocked and rocked and rocked him, all the while plotting how I would leave him with his father as soon as he was really asleep and the carrot cake would be mine. Hopefully when I’m stuck at work all day for the next six weeks, I’ll either a) have more willpower or b) be too tired to go to the store just for cake. I really think I can overcome this almost physical urge for sugar.