Last night the boy comes to the garage door that leads in to the house and says “mom, I need you to come here for a minute”. There was something in the ashen color of his skin that gave away the truth that he was up a creek.
I walked outside to discover that the back drivers side bumper of his car was pretty darned crumpled up. Then came the bad news.
Me “honey, did you call the police?” the boy “Uh no, but I got her name and phone number”. Me “so no accident report?” they boy “Uh no, I didn’t know I was supposed to”. At that moment I had a flash to Bill Cosby saying “you know, I brought you into this world, I can take you out”. But that would just make me sad.
So this morning starts the search for Catherine C. Ironically in the past an event like this would have resulted in the soothing food coma but my how things have changed.
Nope, nadda, ain’t happen in this house. Clean eats for breakfast and lunch and not even the remote desire to be in a food coma.
I used to use food to fix everything. Food doesn’t fix things, it’s not out to get us with temptation, it’s not good or bad or even evil. Food has no power. It only gets power from us giving it power. And for those of you who’ve never struggle with food, just remember you don’t know what trauma someone else may be going through.
For so long I lived as if food could literally make all of my problems disappear. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it was just playing head games with me. It has been a great part of the morphing of a fit woman. At times it has been painful but over the past several years things have fallen into a good place. Awareness is huge.