Tonight, it’s rainy and sleety and nasty out. We had grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner, with a nice side of mixed veggies. Mmmm, mmm.
Son swore he could eat a whole grilled cheese sandwich, so I made him one. Without thinking, I made myself a whole one, as well. I ate my dinner, while he dawdled and told me about his day. Finally, he said he was full, with a half a sandwich left on his plate.
a) forced him to eat the sandwich
b) threw the sandwich in the trash
c) ate it myself
I feel awful now. Stuffed, overweight and unhappy. Looking back on our eating patterns, I know that I eat far too much food because I eat what I serve myself, and then feel awful about wasting food when he doesn’t finish his dinner–so I eat his leftovers, too. I need to either stop eating his food or serve myself far less. I think it should be the former, not the latter. I don’t know where I got this habit, but consider it broken, tonight.
I also need re re-read French Women Don’t Get Fat: The Secret of Eating For Pleasure. It’s a wonderful, witty, compassionate look at the philosophy of eating, and teaches us all to live a little, without gaining a lot. It’s one of those books that should replace all the diet books in your bookshelves.