Getting my nose out of the feedbag

Weight Watchers starts next Monday. I'm trying to get into the right frame of mind for it by taking ownership of what I'm eating in the meantime. Why is it that when I'm home I can't stay the hell out of the kitchen? It's like I crave the stimulation of eating. Which frustrates me because, aren't I getting the emotional stimulation and satisfaction I need from the babygirl? Apparently not everything I need. But I refuse - REFUSE - to role-model unhealthy, dependent eating habits to my little girl. I grew up with a very unhealthy relationship to food that led to a long and bitter battle with weight, one that I did not resolve until I was twenty when I lost over 70 pounds and kept it off for five years. Of course, that's when I got preggo with babygirl, and now I've still got 40 excess pounds of baggage to get rid of. I want to spare her this battle. I don't want her to remember me floating back and forth from the fridge to the cabinets, grazing nonstop and having to tear myself away to spend quality time with her. I absolutely love the time I spend with her. But there is some deeply buried but very vocal piece of my consciousness that wants to eat NOW, to eat FIRST, before anything else including spending time with my precious little one. That piece of me needs to quiet down. I need to learn how to meet the underlying need so that I can get it to quiet down. In the meantime, I keep telling myself when I drift in the direction of the kitchen, "Get your nose out of th feedbag, woman!"

You may feel free to borrow that line if you like it.