Phew!

I've finally got three minutes to sit down and actually write something. I've had snowy kids in and out of the house all morning - we ended up with nearly 6 inches of snow yesterday so the neighborhood kids are in the front yard exhausitng our snow supply - we've already built a snowman (as you can see above) and had many many snowball fights, and frequent breaks with demands for hot chocolate. My kitchen feels like a cafe.

I was pretty surprised, actually - in the last few years my threshold for staying out in the snow has been measured in minutes. I'd shovel for a few minutes, and then give up for a half hour. Yesterday I shovelled for half hour straight and still had time to help gather snow for the snowman and throw a few snowballs. I've already said that next year ew might attempt a day trip to a local-ish ski resort - I used to love to ski but I'm still a little too round to do it right now.

So now I get some time to chill, watch some football, and have my Sunday "day off". I've noticed something about my days off lately. When I first started this, I would crave a list of stuff and make sure I got it on Sunday. Lately, I've just had a few things. This sunday, I didn't even care if we had pizza or not when it was suggested. There will always be pizza - the world isn't going to run out of pizza anytime soon.

Today really is the calm before the storm too. My parents are flying in from the UK on Thursday to stay with us for a month. I have a ton of cleaning to do, and some planning as far as workouts - I won't be able to use the living room anymore. I'm not so worried about food - my mom actually cooks ten times halthier than I do (my dad controls his diabetes by diet alone), so calories at dinner time won't be a problem. The problem is going to be persuading myself that this isn't a month of treats, and that Christmas isn't going to be a month long. If I can do that, I'm golden.

It's Sunday!

I'll let you into a little secret of mine. I take Sundays off.

Well, not really off, but Sunday is the day I allow myself more calories and don't even intend to do the slightest bit of exercise - especially during football season. I find that if I really start wanting something unreasonable during the week, I tell myself I can wait until Sunday. Nine times out of ten, I forget that I ever wanted it. If, by Sunday I'm still desperate for it, I go ahead and have some. In a planned way. Like today I'm having pancakes for breakfast, because I've been desperate for them all week. Last week I had a croissant from the local bakery, because I swear they're the most awesome food ever invented.

I figure that I can't tell myself no to stuff like that for the two years (at least) that I'm going to be doing this. I can't make it a "bad" thing, but I can wait and see if it's something I just want right that very minute, or it's something I can wait for - and really really savor once I get, and that's what Sundays are for. No bingeing, all planned, but just a little bit of planned decadence. And football, because I really can't live without holding the couch down all afternoon and yelling for my Ravens.