Re-Setting

When my son was a baby, he would cry - inconsolably - like any other infant. If his dad was home during these crying episodes, he'd give Ben a little toss in the air and Ben would forget what he was upset over and award everyone around with a huge smile. My ex called the whole activity, "the re-set process." As in, "I'm hitting his re-set button."

At 39, I'm having to trigger my own re-set button more than I'd like. The thing with a food battle is this: you can claim you're done with the battle and then have a re-lapse. I've always said that food issues are harder to manage than drug or alcohol dependencies because we can give those up. We have to eat. Right?

Right. But not excessively and not inappropriately and that is where my learning is truly happening.

I have had set-backs since I declared that my life long struggle with food had ended. To err is to be human. Just today, coming off a wickedly busy week with work, I turned to several foods that I have on hand for Ben. Nothing unhealthy or junky, but the portions were large enough to feed Ben and a playgroup. Of five friends. Mommies, too.

I guess that the only thing I can do - and have been doing - is to re-set quickly before a backslide occurs. One sitting of inappropriate food portions does not equal a backslide to me. It's more like a reminder - of what I used to do - and why I don't want to do it anymore. In my mind, if I'm cognizant enough, the episodes will become fewer and my thought processes will actually override the desire to eat.

This is my hope.

In the meantime, I'm going to a birthday dinner tonight for an old, old friend at a super fancy restaurant in the Bay Area. We're all dressing up and while I'm not looking forward to the act of squeezing into a black skirt, I am looking forward to connecting with a group of old friends. Tonight is about the human connections and not so much the food. Which is good because I highly doubt I'll be hungry by dinner time.