Sweating the Sweet Stuff

5 min read
Sweating the Sweet Stuff

Don't Sweat the Sweet Stuff | Stay at Home MumSweating the Sweet Stuff

I have a confession to make. For the last 15 years, I have been having a love affair. A deep, unrequited love affair. He is small and dark and smooth and always wears a smile. He waits for me every day in the same spot, innocently placed in public eye, calling to me to pick him up and take him home, although we rarely ever make it back to my house. No one else can compare, he calms me when I am stressed and soothes me when I am sad. He is my reward when I have been good, and my guilty pleasure when I am feeling bad. His name… is Giant Freddo!

Ask any of my friends, I have always harboured a full dental set of sweet teeth. My day is not complete without chocolate, and I am always to be found baking up a batch of something laden with white sugar, butter and flour. Psychologically, I am severely addicted to sugar. It stems from a childhood of being rewarded with food, with memories of my mother returning from every shopping trip with “treats” of some kind. A trip to the movies is not the ultimate experience without a choc bomb icecream, and a visit to my local IGA is never complete if I do not leave with my subconsciously purchased object of lust!

I know I have a reliance on sugar, but events of late have shown me that this is a real problem. I noticed that my children instinctively know that they need to visit the bottom shelf on checkout #2 and grab a small blue packet with a frog on a skateboard before we leave the IGA. I noticed my jeans and pants have not been sliding up quite as easily, as if my brain sent a message to my arse on my 30th birthday last year to tell me that this daily indulgence could no longer continue!! But the red light moment was yesterday, when my doctor took my blood sugar levels. His facial expression was grim, he did not even tell me the number, and subsequently started to gather together pamphlets on insulin resistance and Type 2 diabetes. “I warned you that this would happen Clancy,” he scolded, “you are literally the tiniest of steps away from having a real problem on your hands.”

It sounds ridiculous, but I’ll be very honest. I felt stupid and sad. I felt loss. I felt panic because I really don’t think I can do what he is proposing. My emotional side is likening it to killing off a part of me, but my logical side is telling me that this about more than the happiness I get from chomping my way through a block of Cadbury Bubbly. I don’t want to be overweight, reliant on injections or strict eating guidelines. I want to be able to drink wine with my friends or eat birthday cake at my children’s birthday parties. But I have to honest with myself, if things continue this way; it will be all completely out of my control. I will have had my chance and chosen to do what my emotional, chocolate-addicted self says it wants, not what my poor sugar overloaded body needs, and the decision will be taken out of my hands.

So I’ve been to the supermarket and bought enough fruit and veggies to feed a small country. My car smelt like spinach and strawberries as I drove home, I struggled to find enough room in the fridge for the huge amounts of bok choy, fresh pineapple and watermelon. The doctor has suggested a 7 day cleanse, with all kinds of colourful instructions on how to juice carrot and beetroot and substitute natural sugars so my body wont delve into some kind of sugar withdrawal coma, and strict instructions and a pre-made appointment for a follow up should I make it through the week without killing my husband or asphyxiating myself in a bowl of the forbidden sweet stuff.

So did I make it past checkout #2? I did, but only because I forced myself to go to a different store. In spectacularly Clancy-style fashion however, I couldn’t go past the blocks of Cadbury on special, internally reasoning with myself that tonight is family movie night. Come Monday, I’ll be ready, not so willing, but able to give this go, but, as all good women will tell you, the rules clearly state that when a diet/cleanse/lifestyle change begins on Monday, you’ve got a free run on the naughty stuff til then!!

Clancy Briggs has been “learning on the job” since becoming a Mum 10 years ago. She struggles daily with her role in the home as well as in the world and is a self-proclaimed “sporadically irresponsible” parent! She lives with her 3 gorgeously feral children, her long-suffering husband and their domestic zoo, is seriously addicted to chocolate and the idea that someday she will find her inner enlightenment and everything in her life will run smoothly!




About Author

Jody Allen

Jody is the founder and essence of Stay at Home Mum. An insatiable appetite for reading from a very young age had Jody harbouring dreams of being a pu...Read Moreblished author since primary school. That deep-seeded need to write found its way to the public eye in 2011 with the launch of SAHM. Fast forward 4 years and a few thousand articles Jody has fulfilled her dream of being published in print. With the 2014 launch of Once a Month Cooking and 2015's Live Well on Less, thanks to Penguin Random House, Jody shows no signs of slowing down. The master of true native content, Jody lives and experiences first hand every word of advertorial she pens. Mum to two magnificent boys and wife to her beloved Brendan; Jody's voice is a sure fire winner when you need to talk to Mums. Read Less

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