There
is a change at my house this Christmas Season.
Oh, the trees are up and the lights are twinkling, there are presents
still hidden here and there with bags of wrapping paper, tape and ribbon ready
to be applied. I watch my favorite
Christmas movies before I go to bed and the Christmas cards are still rolling
in. But there’s something missing; the
kitchen is hollow and the counter tops empty—no twenty five pound bags of flour
and sugar, no shelves filled with dried fruit, chocolate chips, white
chocolate, butterscotch, caramel, peanut butter chips, no almond bark or bags
of nuts by the pound. There are no
festive tins and cans to be filled with candy and cookies and no boxes for
gourmet cakes with holiday flair. This
Christmas, there is a scrooge in the house who is selfish and insisting on change. She’s rolled her sleeves up and taken on a
healthy outlook, declared war on sugar and carbs and aligned herself with fresh
fruits and vegetables. She’s traded her
apron for a sweat suit and a pair of tennis shoes and put away the cookie
sheets and pulled out the vegetable steamer.
The whisk and candy thermometer are locked away in the drawer and
instead of spending hours going through Christmas cookie and candy recipes, she’s
online researching healthy alternatives for butters and oils and trying to find
recipes that use Stevia. The skinny husband is waiting for the list
that he’ll take to the store to bring home the ingredients to transform into
delectable treats and the stunned daughter keeps lifting her nose to sniff the
now empty air that only affords the smell of lean meats being grilled or new
vegetables steamed or sautéed. I’m sure
it’s overwhelming for them, to be denied of their must have merry munchies, and
they are hopeful that the Scrooge will fall asleep and be visited by three
spirit who will convince her to go back to her fattening festive frivolities. But I believe the Christmas angels are
watching with designed interest as the lady of the house forsakes the sugar
gods and bosses of the cakes and moves on to find her lost treasure—her health.
Every
Christmas tradition in my family has been connected to food. People in my family have been known to gain
ten pounds just in Christmas week alone and those of us with good genes manage
to keep their holiday package to a pooch here, a pot belly there, maybe a bit
of a jiggle in the arms and legs. But to
some of us, the sugar stains us with baggage that goes way beyond a ten pound
pouch. I wish I understood why some can
eat bags of sugar with no effect and others need to be wiped off of the walls
after consuming a quarter cup. Yet there are the ones who are fueled by the
sugary treats to go on to host a ravenous beast who can eat the state of Texas
with a cup or two of coffee. I,
unfortunately am the latter of the three, a fact that I have known for some
time now, but somehow in the past few years I’ve lost the power to tame the
beast. I read a book called “Sugar Blues”
that changed my mindset about 12 years ago and I determined to end the power
sugar had over me. I managed to hold it
at bay for seven years, it was the best I’ve ever felt. I was not thin, but I was a nice size 14,
full of strength and muscle. I had
energy and was very active. The only
sweets I allowed myself were fruit and even lemons were sweet to me. A sprinkle of cinnamon over my soy lattes
added sweetness and cherry or grape tomatoes were like eating candy. What happened to that success? It was ambushed by one single Christmas
cookie. I was spending Christmas with my
family in New Orleans and my sister in law had made some cookies she couldn’t
wait for me to try. My mother told me
not to hurt her feelings, ‘eat the damn cookie’, she’d told me. I did not, I held my ground. But my mother, unhappy with my stubbornness,
resorted to the age old supremacy that she’d used on me as a child, she gave me
‘the look’. Now there are few things
that get to me, put a lump in my throat and make me shiver with alarm; the look
is one of them. It was the method of
control she’d used over us to get us to be nice, settle down, share—you know
the look. The one that said you may walk
out of here smirking, but when I get you home, your butt is mine! I cracked, incapable of withstanding the
powers that be, and took the cookie. It
was a good cookie, you know the kind that is crispy on the edges, yet chewy in
the middle? Full of delightful chocolate
chips and pecans and topped with a deep, dark chocolate drizzle? My plan was to chew the cookie, make a few
oohs and ahs and then spit it into napkin.
But it got to me, the ooey gooey texture, the sweetness tantalized my taste
buds and for a moment, I was sugar seduced.
One cookie turned to three and I decided that didn’t hurt so I’d have a
few pieces of fudge, just for the day, I’d go back to being sugar free in the
morning. By the New Year, I was sugar
crazed! Pancake for breakfast drowned
with syrup, iced coffee concoctions at least 3 a day, cookies, cakes; I kept
gummy bears in my car at all times. I
started to have acid reflux again, candida, my blood pressure went up, high
cholesterol—need I say more?
I have
often resented that cookie—it was like the straw that broke the camel’s back,
the Trojan horse that wrecked my kingdom.
You would think I would have resisted cookies for all time, but I didn’t. I was like a junkie with his stuff, miserable
but satisfied. The years that have past
have brought me some heartache and loss and my joints gave way and in two years
I found myself so big I could be considered a wide load in traffic. So just like the festivity of the holiday
season and the temptation to take just one bite stole my sugar free success, I
am bound and determined to get it back with the same sentiment. Sugar is not the reason for the season, I should
not have visions of sugar plums dancing in my head and my house is not made of
cookies held together with royal icing.
I have to have a better foundation than this, and this Christmas, while
the world waves peppermint canes at each other and pounds one another with
fudge and cake, I will make a change and I will get my healthy back.
There
are so many other facets of the holidays—the music, the fellowship, the giving—I
choose to focus on them and make this the best holiday ever.
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