Friday Food Confessions

I have a complicated relationship with food. Don’t we all? I think mine is a bit different than most but maybe that’s because very few of us are truly honest, even with ourselves, about details that shame us.

I’m letting my shame come out.

On a fairly anonymous blog.

I don’t have the courage to be up front about this stuff in my real life, but this is bare wood, right?

I’m of a totally normal weight. In fact, before I got pregnant with the twins (Before Twins – BT) I was pretty bombshell-esque if I do say so myself. I wore tucked-in blouses with snug-fitting pencil skirts and high heels to work every day. I had big boobs, a tiny waist and respectably curvy hips.

I’m only 10 pounds above what I was BT, but it’s amazing how much that 10 affects my clothing choices and my self image. I have TT (twin tummy) and my boobs went from big and luscious to gigantic and obscene. I’ve developed saddle bags. I guess I had them to some extent before but they were minimal and didn’t really bother me.

Even BT though, I was weird and sneaky and very secretive about food. I would hide food even when I lived alone. Why? I don’t know. I was afraid someone would come over and see what I really ate I guess. I still hide food. I hide it from OW. When the twins get old enough to notice that I eat food and to want some, I’ll be hiding food from them too. I’ll snatch bites of things from behind cupboard doors or around the corner from the playroom. I know this about myself because that’s exactly what I did with FS (the first set).

This week I made a loaf of banana bread as a birthday gift for an uncle-in-law I’ve met maybe two or three times. I’d let some bananas get really ripe, I looked up fabulous recipes using weights instead of measurements and I studied the optimal mixing methods, all so I could make the perfect loaf for this uncle-in-law-whom-I’d-met-maybe-two-or-three-times.

when I started making it though, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of greed and regret that I was going to have to give it away. I thought about just not giving it to him and wishing him a happy birthday with nothing in hand. I thought about making mini-muffins so I could eat some and not have anyone notice it wasn’t a full recipe’s worth.

I worked hard to control myself and continued on. I lost that control some at the end, just before pouring the batter into the loaf pan. I started eating the batter. Just a bit that splashed onto my hand at first. Then a dollop from the scraper, then a spoonful, then another.

How gross is that?

I’d be absolutely mortified if OW or his mother or my mother or anyone I know knew about this.

And that’s just the beginning, Friends. My food weirdness will take care of loads of blog posts.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!


Posted on August 12, 2011, in A piece of my soul, Food Weirdness. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Ha! I won’t lie…I’m baking the shit out of a birthday cake for my son and I may or may not have eaten a lot of batter…and icing…and decorations

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