Just picture it…the warm, sweet vapors that rise up through your nose as you place the cookie near your lips, making your mouth water in preparation for the bite you will take of the slightly crisp outside of this sweet little orb, then further down into its softy, chewy center, while tiny bits of melted chocolate touch your taste buds and send your endorphins into a tailspin.
(Okay, right about now, I’m sure you are all thinking that I spent WAY too much time over at Loving Annie’s alter-ego blog!)
…Then of course, you wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and realize that you can actually see that wonderful confection hanging on for dear life to the outside of your thigh.
Okay, tonight it was either a choice of wine or Reese’s Peanut Butter and Chocolate cookies. I started with the wine, but soon remembered that I had to drive my son to jazz band practice and then go visit a home-bound elderly woman right after that. So I drank a few sips, and then left it alone. After visiting with my friend and then picking my son back up, I began to realize I still had that “empty” feeling deep inside.
The funny thing is, I know that feeling isn't hunger or thirst. Quite frankly, that emptiness is just another form of frustration, of feeling out of control of a life that’s actually supposed to be mine.
Take my husband’s ex (please!) for instance. I have had my share of good and bad experiences with this woman and I like her...I really do. But lately her discourteousness just takes the proverbial cake. Three years ago, when her daughter came to live with us, I made the mistake of allowing her to come and visit her daughter whenever she wanted. Of course, her daughter was not at the lovely age of fourteen back then. Now, the ex will call my stepdaughter on her cell phone to tell her she’s outside my house. My stepdaughter then tells her to come in, but does not get up to let her in. Within seconds, I will hear my un-knocked door opening, and there she is in all of her blond-haired, skinny-body, designer clothing glory. Added to this is the fact that within several minutes, they will start arguing like two teenagers (which is okay for one of them)…and then a full-blown fight will ensue. Of course, by this point, I am hiding in my bedroom just to escape, feeling like a prisoner in my own home.
The other day, she came in while I was cleaning my house with crazy hair and no makeup. I ran into my bedroom until she was safely ensconced in her daughter’s room and until the voices rose high enough for me to plan my breakout without the embarrassment of her seeing me. I quietly grabbed my walking poles from the hall closet, and tip-toed really fast out the front door. As I pounded the pavement with my rubber-tipped staffs, I subconsciously kicked myself in my butt for not being able to just stand up for myself and for the sanity of my house. And I never finished cleaning, either.
Then, of course, we have all of the other lovely family holiday drama going on, with jail birds and women that eat like birds and me turning into a cuckoo bird from all of it. And let’s not forget that I am supposed to go visit a college that’s five hours away on Thursday with my daughter and my ex-husband, who drives like Mr. Magoo on crack cocaine.
Okay, but back to the cookies.
I could’ve gotten on my treadmill. But no, I baked cookies. And I ate them. A lot of them. And now I feel like crap. But when I pass that cookie jar again, I know somehow that worthless feeling will go away, and visions of chocolate chips will dance very attractively in my head. And I will happily dance with them, at least for a minute or two.
But for you, my dear blogging buddies, I wish cookies eaten in joy and not frustration. I wish many happy hours of holiday delight spent stress-free with the ones you love most. May the wonder of the season embrace you with the things that matter most to you. Most of all, may God bless you and yours now and in the coming New Year. Happy Holidays!
(For some creative holiday reading, please visit Berserker Norway...she posted a lovely little article about "Thanks and Giving.")