Torture I tell you

Tags

baking, cookies, food, good, postaday2012

The baby girl wants to torture us with her homemade chocolate chip cookies. I have written about them before; in glowing reviews, her cookies are to die for. They aren’t too sweet, they are mouth-watering and moist, melt in your mouth delicious. She is making a huge batch tonight without a specific function to take them to, the cookies are going to stay here, where they are going to beckon to me, to my hubby, to torture us into eating them non-stop. Have you ever encountered a cookie where you couldn’t stop at one? My baby girl’s cookies are exactly those kinds of cookies.

I just informed her that I was venting on my blog and she called me sassy pants. She then started saying that I shouldn’t be complaining when she made me cookies, I loved them and I should be happy to eat them. She doesn’t get the whole eating disorder thing; when you eat something sinful, you torture yourself for a day or two. I never want my baby girl to understand an eating disorder, I am happy that she doesn’t view food as the enemy. As I told her that I was writing about her cookies, there was a rascally smile on my face so she knew that I was complaining in jest. I’m proud of her baking skill and so is she.

Pretty soon the kitchen is going to smell of butter, sugar and chocolate, woe is me. I can just see the tendrils of cookie essence snaking through the hallway into the living room calling me into the kitchen to taste a warm, right out of the oven cookie. Happy Monday!

Overcoming helplessness

Tags

dread, fear, feelings, helplessness, panic, postaday2012

The last time that I felt that awful feeling and the prompt describes it pretty well a dull, sick feeling that starts in the pit of your stomach and with me it radiates upwards into a cold sweat up into my head and sometimes it gets worse where my vision and my mind feel as if they are in a tunnel, a dark one, that is getting getting tighter and tighter, until I pass out. It hasn’t happened often in my lifetime, only twice or maybe three times, but it is unpleasant either way.

The last time that I felt that sinking feeling of dread and powerlessness was when the radiologist at my bi-annual mammogram called me in and said that he was recommending a biopsy because the calcifications were on the rise over the course of my past three mammograms. Everything is fine now, hooray! But I remember sitting there agreeing with him and nodding, his lips were moving and he was showing me the images, I was looking but my mind was numb and my stomach was cold and twisted and my lips and the base of my neck were starting the cold sweats. My hubby was in the waiting room and when we were outside, away from others my voice broke while trying to say the word biopsy. My hubby being there stopped the cold sweats from progressing anywhere near the danger zone of passing out and then vomiting. He helped me so much that day and as I said it all worked out. But that feeling is an awful one.