Starting Anew

...And what's the deal with airline food?

Sorry, couldn't think of a more clever way to start this new blog.  New blog, new year.  Same old hang-ups.

But I'm good.  Life's good.  I finally graduated from my MLS graduate program from USF, I got a full-time job as a reference librarian at the Fruitville Public Library, which means health insurance, security, and new found, terrifying responsibility.

And my personal life is good too: both Joes are happy and healthy.  Little Joey is three now and we are in the throes of potty-training.  Joe is still working hard building his side hustle with NESMaker and he and Austin have more than doubled their office space.  

Yup.  It's good to be me, alright.

Yep....

I really hate dieting.  I mean, I REALLY hate dieting.  I've always thought of myself as a semi-healthy person.  I like to go jogging or walking.  I'm trying to drink more water all throughout the day.  And I don't normally eat THAT terribly.

Ok, yes, sometimes you just gotta have that cheeseburger.  And nothing tastes better with that cheeseburger than crispy, salty French fries.  And what are you going to wash that down with?  Why a full-calorie, full-sugar, full-fizz soda, of course.  Or, if you're really living your best life, a chocolate milkshake.

Yeah, try to make kale taste that good.

But lately, Joe's been on a bit of a health kick.  Ever since he had this little scare with his heart (nothing serious, thankfully), he's been really trying to better himself.  Taking long walks everyday, sometimes twice.  Eating an apple for his breakfast, a salad for his lunch, and then a nice sensible dinner consisting of a lean protein and lots of veggies.

I hate it.

Don't get me wrong- I'm really proud of him.  He's sticking with it and I'm trying to stick by his side. And it's not like I couldn't stand to lose a few pounds.  As enjoyable as it is pushing my fleshy stomach into some tight yoga pants and covering my torso in a horse-blanket, I probably owe it to myself to at least try a LITTLE bit harder.

So I've been sucking it up and its been bearable.

Except for the past two days, which the only thing bear-like I did was sniff around opened containers of food and devour everything in sight while hiding in my den.

Two nights ago, I was especially bad.  We had just finished a perfectly nice chicken and vegetable dish that Joe made us for dinner.  Even Joey ate it.  I thanked Joe and dabbed my lips gingerly and appreciatively.  

I then sat there, pretending to be too tired to move right away, when in reality, I was waiting... 

Joe got up and took Joey towards his bedroom to get him ready for his bath.  At last the moment arrived.

I descended upon the fridge and pantry like a wild hyena who had just stumbled upon a dead wildebeest.  I grabbed handfuls of packages and scurried into our bedroom.  My hand alternated in a frenzy between a bag of Hershey s'more bites, Gummy bears, stale potato chips, and Cheez-its.  

And then it was over.  I looked out on the empty bags and boxes with shame and guilt.  It was then that Joe popped in to see what I was doing.  I looked at him with such a morose face.

"Wow..." he said, a small smile blossoming on his lips.  "Look at what we have here.  You really made some damage, huh?"

"I cannot be trusted," I said, sick to my stomach all of a sudden.  Sure, it might have been from the explosion of cocoa and sugar to my blood stream, or maybe the oil in the potato chips had gone rancid.

But more likely, it was just the guilt from eating all that junk while Joe is being so good.  And I can't be mad at him for being healthy.  I can't be mad when I come home from a long day and all I'm hoping he'll say is "let's split a pizza and an order of wings," not "let me cook you a nice chicken breast with some steamed broccoli".  I can't be mad when he forces himself outside to exercise and I huddle under the covers because its not warmer than 65 degrees outside.

I'm mad at me for not being as strong as he is.  There was a time when I was the health nut in our relationship.  There was a time I used to go running in the snow.  There was a time when I went weeks without soda, months without fast food.

And now I'm weak.  But I guess that's ok.  Because now he is the stronger one.  

I just need to follow his lead more. Turn away from breaded and deep-fried deliciousness, and eat the damn salad.

Now it's your turn.  How do you handle it when your partner starts getting healthier than you?