The Bargainer's Dozen

     I have a sweet tooth. I hate to admit it these days, but I wasn't always so mindful. In fact for years, sweets were a food group in my diet. Gummy Bears ranked higher than carrots and Brussels sprouts. Peeps replaced Ham on Easter morning. Chocolate Covered cherries were all I stocked my pantry with through the winter months. It wasn't until the blood sugar test they give expectant mother's at their six month appointment that I learned I had gestational diabetes with Judah and my world began to pivot.
Writing down a total number of carbohydrates for each meal started to put a halt on the skittles.

     I thought, certainly if I drink a lot of water and exercise this whole blood sugar thing will get back to normal. I had the mind set that I could conquer anything and especially health. But as I pricked my finger again and again the numbers were always higher than normal. I had to forsake all sugars and embrace the Brussels sprouts. Needless to say, I went through a sugar withdrawal, but in-saline shots started to get my attention.

     The only thing I looked forward too through that last trimester was having the baby so I could get back to my Gummy Bears. I was sick of celery with natural peanut butter. I even dreamed about eating a Snicker's bar when no one was looking. When I finally had Judah I didn't check my blood sugar for a long time. I ate what I wanted to which was a large variety of the third trimester No No's.

     When Judah was about seven months old I thought maybe I should just check my blood sugar. I skipped the post par-tum blood sugar test scheduled for three weeks after his birth. It would have required fasting and 2 1/2 hours of drinking concentrated pop and waiting. I just couldn't fit it in with preparing to move and nursing a newborn. So I held out my finger for a good poke. As I gathered the droplet of blood I waited for the number to pop up, 139 the number read. My heart sunk, the sugar problem had not gone away.

     Once again I said farewell to my sugar buddies that had been helping me through the past few months. I went back to diet and exercise. I cut out regular sugar and I cut carbs. In a few months I was losing a lot of the baby fat and moving past the sugar cravings. I checked my A1C, and it was within normal range. This sounded like good news but I was afraid of myself. You know that inner voice that tries to get you to do all the things you know you shouldn't. Well it started whispering to me again. This time it brought up my old crush, Chocolate frosted donuts with cream filling.

    It just so turned out our new home was only thirty-five minutes from one of the best donut shops I had ever experienced, Jaarsma Bakery in Pella, Iowa. They had chocolate frosted cream filled Bismarks that were like eating a baby angel:) So good!

    Again I fell off the wagon of good eating skills just to have one of these little temptations. Now I am not saying eating donuts is a sin, but they are sinfully good:) I love the way the sugar rush makes my head tingly and I have the energy of a Squirrel. I looked past the stomach ache. I forgot the way I repented after I had to lay in bed after one of my donut indulges. But at some point I put the foot down and I looked myself in the eye.

Knock it off Dianne!

     That is when Brad introduced me to KETO. The weird diet of cooking everything in bacon grease and smothering it with avocados. No donuts were allowed though it was totally acceptable to eat a whole package of bacon in one day. In those days I would yell at the old tempter when my mind would remind me of how happy I was eating a donut. How fun it was to squish a gummy bear between my teeth, especially the ones from the Albanese Candy Store.

   The diet lasted a good four months before I started taking in a treat here and there. I thought I was still practicing moderation until yesterday. A new villian hijacked my sugar heist. Oh it was a clever trap laid before me. I was just going into Dollar General for a few things. At this time of social distancing I am thankful for the moments to shop. In our little community I only have two options, the grocery store and Dollar General. I wasn't prepared for what I was about to walk into.

   As I was looking for raw apple cider vinegar, not an item they carry, my eye was drawn to the little orange sign that read 90% off Easter. Now if there is anything I love more than candy it is a sale of grand proportions. I started digging through the items. I had a small thought in the back of my mind that Covid 19 could be in the box of plastic bunnies, Easter grass and wind-up chicks. BUT THEY WERE 90% off...

    I have a brain injury when it comes to sales. I have bought many items in the past that later I laughed at. Like at Christmas I bought 42 popcorn balls because they were 10 cents each. No one in my house would eat them but I reasoned, we could have a "snow ball" fight. Or we could make a craft.

     I have a problem. I sometimes recognize this, but yesterday when I laid eyes on the huge box filled to the brim full of cartons of Chocolate covered marshmallow eggs I knew I had to stop. My head pounded with the thrill hitting the jackpot. I picked up one package of eggs, it rung up at only 30 cents. I would have been crazy not to go back to get more.

     After purchasing three more dozen I left the store. My mind raced with the excitement of my great buy. I quickly opened the first carton. I'll just eat one, I said to myself. But to be honest the thin coating of chocolate had the perfect crunch contrast to the squishy marshmallow center. I was instantly brought back to the memory of eating these very eggs as a child. Thankfully my brothers didn't like marshmallow eggs so they didn't try to rob my Easter basket.

    As I ate the second and third egg I began to get happy. The sugar rush was beautiful. By the time I drove the 5 miles from the store to my home I surprised myself by discovering I only had three marshmallow eggs left.

    Oh no! this was definitely not good for me. I knew a walk was in order. I could picture the sugar surging through my veins. But the kids were loud, the kitchen was a mess, and I didn't have a plan for dinner, so the last three eggs just disappeared. Stress made me do it!!!

       The moral of this story is: I still have a sweet tooth. And though I have moments of victory, the fiendish side of me still can win. I have a bargain addiction, and I don't think there is medicine for this. I have 3 cartons of eggs that are calling to me as I write this. I am not sure if I should burn them, plastic carton and all, or donate them to the Covid 19 crisis center for other sugar addicts. It is hard to face your weakness and drop kick the chocolate covered marshmallow eggs. But let's be clear: I need to cast them into the sea of forgetfulness.

    My sweet tooth isn't dead and when the going gets tough I secretly like to start eating. I am sorry that as you read this, you are probably getting frustrated with me. With these words I hope to rid myself of the lure of these tasty little death traps . This dilemma is my chronicle of the Bargainer's dozen.