Thursday, 14th of January 2010 at 12:59:11 AM The house is quiet, except for the swish of the dishwasher. Most lights are off, but the muted television casts a flickering blue glow over the room. My husband sleeps in the next room. Our boys sleep in their rooms downstairs, and I am slumped on the couch, watching the night crawl by.
Oh, and there is one more noise. At my feet my daughter chirrups and coos, shaking a strand of plastic links between two fat fists and grinning at them as though they are the most facinating thing in the world.
It is the night watch hours, it doesn’t look as though I am going to sleep anytime soon, and this is when it is – for reals – hardest for me. I am bored, I am tired, no one is watching, and I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. The kitchen is right over there, and I know where to find the recipe for a quick microwave cake (Gray, you ANIMAL).
I have a few sane-person strategies to keep my head while all those around me are resting theirs. I brush my teeth. I keep my hands and mouth busy with a mug of herbal tea. I log onto FitDay and review how well I’ve done all day. I try to distract myself with TV and if Cake Boss comes on, I change the channel just as fast as my little clicker thumb can take me. I get down on the floor and hold a plank pose until the baby knocks me down with thrilled slaps and shrieks. I read weight loss articles like “20 Superfoods for Weight Loss!” (Spoiler alert: one of them is blueberries. Another is oatmeal. No, really.)
And then, five minutes later, I’m out of sane-person options, the baby is still awake, and I need something to stop me from diving face-first into the gold bag of chocolate chips (on the middle shelf in the pantry, behind the Cheerios, am I imagining things or can I smell them from here?). Aaaaand that’s when it gets…weird.
I sit up straight on that couch, toss my hair over my shoulder, cross my ankles like a debutant, smile, and proceed to have an imaginary interview with Oprah. Yes, really.
Oprah, you see, is really interested to hear just how I lost ALL THE WEIGHT, and so I am telling her about it.
“But wasn’t it difficult, with all you do, to take the time to exercise and watch what you eat?” she asks, admiration plain in her eyes.
“Well, yes, Oprah,” I say, nodding, “it IS hard. But everything that’s worth doing is hard, don’t you think? And if I don’t set this example for my children, if I don’t show them that it’s up to me to take charge of my own destiny, what lesson am I teaching them?”
She presses a hand to her heart, struck dumb for just a moment by the WISDOM of that.
And so it goes. I sit there on my couch, smiling and gesturing and talking like Oprah’s very special guest. The baby beams up at me, the most receptive studio audience anyone could ever hope for.
I’m sorry to admit that this can go on for QUITE some time. And my answers only get more grandiose and ridiculous as the “interview” progresses. It’s silly, it’s quite a bit childish, and if I was observed it might cause a medical professional to ask me a pointed series of questions to see if I’m oriented to time and place. But really, it’s no crazier than eating food I don’t need because I’m bored, when you think about it. It’s an unconventional way of entertaining myself, to be sure. But it’s not one I have to regret.
What about you? Do you have a…creative way of dealing with temptation, or are you busy dialing the number of a qualified mental health professional on my behalf? Does anyone else grant middle-of-the-night interviews to an imaginary Oprah, or are you more of an Ellen person?
That is a brilliant insanity that I admire intensely. As you know, I like to imagine myself as a heroine on the world stage, saving humanity and modest stuff like that to inspire my workouts. But OPRAH! That rocks.
I really NEED something like this…hm.
I LOVE it!!!
I have internal conversations that, while I’m not exactly talking out loud, make me look like the village weirdo.
Never with Oprah though. I should try that.
Crap. I always have these conversations with myself. I should have been having them with Oprah. Or maybe Nigella. Wait no, it better be Oprah.
That’s awesome! I got nothin’.
Hmmm. This sounds like a brilliant addition to my mental game of pretending that I have an audience watching me when I am doing the damn workout videos.
Sometimes, I actually DO have an audience, and the chorus of “Mama, you’re not doing it the way she is!” “Mama, why is she so skinny?” and “Mama, how come you are all sweaty but the pretty lady isn’t?” are SO motivating, I tell you what.
I like this post a lot. It’s ultimately just you and a bag of chips and your stern resolve, and that’s a very lonely space. It’s such a small physical/mental movement from here to there, but so hard to control. At 1am you’re absolutely all alone and the space between your hand and the bag of chips is very empty of helpers, friends, support groups, and web site encouragement. I know what you mean.
Brilliant!! I may have to try that sometime, anything to keep my hand out of that bag of chips when I am bored.
This is the cutest weight-loss strategy I’ve ever heard. You’re so clever.
I LIKE it!
My own personal strategy lately has involved buying magazines instead of candy bars, reading them, and then buying shoes online. It doesn’t have to be in that particular order, but usually it is.
Wow, do I love this!
@Pam, I would not recommend an interview of this kind with Nigella. She’d be telling you how delicious butter is, and chocolate, and then she’d drag you to the fridge for a bite of leftover fatty goodness. I love Nigella, but diet-friendly she is not.