My Best Fendi

Somehow Thursdays remain a day when I really have to rally myself to get moving. When I was in the work force I attributed that to job fatigue. I guess I have mom-fatigue now. Not to mention PMS. So it's easy to understand then why my hairstyle today is a Fendi scarf on my head. Simple, done, nice.

Yesterday I was laughing at my very predictable PMS symptoms. I never really accept that it's happening until after I finish the ice-cream. I think I need to get hypnotized out of PMS-eating. Can I do that? Has anyone ever tried that? Because I have one day, each month, when I am like a shark. An eating machine. Sadly, I'm not exaggerating. I polished off what was left of the "Light recipe" Turkey Hill Moose Tracks ice-cream after having some snack mix, fruit salad and a 1/2 sandwich for lunch. Seriously. No wonder the baby foam rubber belly cushion hasn't reduced since Bailey was born.

Here's the sick PMS mind at work. Let's listen in:

I'm hungry. But I just ate lunch and fruit salad.
Look, there's that snack mix with the yummy sesame sticks.
(scarfing it down like cookie monster)
That was good. But I had enough of that. It would be ridiculous to have another serving.
(Sit down for 8 minutes of Bravo tv for distraction technique. fail.)
I'm hungry.
There's ice cream in the freezer. The kids are upstairs…
I'll have a small mug.
(Enjoy decadence thoroughly and savor the last drops)
There's more in there. One more spoon.
Wait. It's not worth leaving like 1/2 a serving in there. I'll just eat from the carton.
One last delicious spoon to go. Yum.
I wonder if I'm getting my period?

And that is the mind of a food addict/PMS eater. One more spoonful = one more hit of whatever a junkie is using. It's a wonder that I don't weigh a ton. How is it that I am not one of those people who has to have the fire department drag me out through the garage bays?

So I can sort of laugh about it since I haven't had to call the fire department for an extraction. I have been walking with some regularity and, as I mentioned, it was "light recipe" ice cream. It's like I need to have this outrageous behavior and then I am content to have a nice turkey wrap for dinner. A smart selection when faced with burgers, ribs, chicken-fried anything on the menu last night at Rainforest Cafe. [side note: we went there to celebrate J's good report card.]

Last summer I figured that ice-cream was the least of my worries with all that chemo and prescriptions and facing radiation. This summer I browse the "slimmerizer" bathing suits on the Land's End site and dread having to do crunches or the Pilate's 100.

Well, my Fendi scarf looks cuter with a little hair surrounding it at least. Off to the walk I promised myself with Bailey in the jog-stroller. And later I may look for a hypno-therapist in the Farmington Valley.