I am fostering my “oh poor me” attitude by cooking.
Bob thinks this is wonderful and marvelous. And he’d be right if I were cooking things that were probably healthy for us.
But I’m so not.
I’ve learned how to make cheese danish. This is a dangerous thing, y’all.
Where I am able to limit my sugar intake, and have one of something, or a bite of something, my husband can not. He eats one. Then another. Then a few more. He thinks if he spaces them out during the day, it’s not as bad as if he eats them all at once.
And I’m watching some of my favorite cooking shows. Good Eats. Trisha Yearwood’s cooking show. The Pioneer Woman.
This is not helping the matter. Because each time, I think, “Oh, that looks good – bet I can make that.” And then I do.
Now, don’t give me lectures on how sugar is bad for cancer patients. I can only handle about 20g of sugar in anything, so I eat it in moderation. So much has been taken away from me, I refuse to give up a treat every now and then. And honestly, it hasn’t hurt my condition. In fact, my oncologist told me if chocolate makes me feel better, then have a piece of chocolate (best. oncologist. ever.).
Now, if I could just figure out how to show my husband how to exercise moderation. 🙂