Imagine this mouthwatering cheeseburger...not you fatty--

I have to admit, food commercials are killing me...it's hard to stay motivated and enjoy tuna when you are watching happy people lick grease from their chompers while enjoying a McRib on tv, when I myself, would never actually want a McRib. In fact, I have never had any interest in trying a McRib, I think they look terrible, but, when you are convincing yourself that oatmeal is the BEST thing in the world, they look like the most delectable entree you have never tried and now can't stop thinking about. 

As my husband heads out the door to get the kids Happy Meals, I need to remain at peace that my homemade salad is perfect, just what I wanted. It has been a long day, I didn't feel like actually cooking, especially since I didn't walk through the door until 6pm, so, while the little ones get to eat bad, mommy must stick to "the plan." I have also had to stop watching tv and begin utilizing my box sets of my favorite television programs. I can't handle another commercial for food. I'm not sure if there has always been this many food commercials, or, if I just haven't noticed them in the past, probably because I was too busy eating what they were advertising. During my daily Maury Povich viewing, the only commercials I have noticed have been for Social Security or accident Lawyers, the Cordon Bleu Culinary Institute (anyone else interested in this? I'm all but convinced I should become a culinary expert...they have financial aide), and the angry black man with the sideways cap that tells me all I do is sit on my couch and talk on the phone all day, so, I should go to Everest College (your classroom IS your future job site!) and make something of myself. I assume their target audience is people on disability getting screwed out of their checks, who need to become electricians and professional chefs...I've become use to this steady stream of commercials and was upset when all of a sudden I heard the KFC jingle--"It's so, S-O G-double O-D, GOOOOOOD!" I felt that CW was now trying to trick me into now eating my weight in fried chicken, along with calling Everest Tech College, Wayne Wright, and nurturing my dreams of becoming a famous chef.

It's completely unavoidable...there are billboards, my mailbox is flooded with coupons for fast food, the commercials, my coworkers and their love for tacos, my children now enjoying greasy burgers and fries at the dinner table. I have to keep on the straight and narrow weight loss path, but, all I can think about is the double fried chicken that substitutes as the bread to hold the bacon and cheese in place, better known as the KFC heartattack combo. Before this diet, I never ate anything like that, in fact, the commercials repulsed me...I might be fat, but, that's even too far for me. It's now clear who the target audience is for these commercials: Chubby, music teachers, with four children, who have a love for bad daytime television, writing, and are trying to lose weight by NOT eating crap food that is advertised on television. Yes, networks, I have figured you out, and I will not let you take me down!!! I will lock myself in the computer room and discuss how much it is killing me to smell the french fries two rooms away, but, I will not indulge. I will yell at 6 year old who comes into room with ketchup on his fingers and fries on his breath, I will not cave. I will complain, I will drool a little, but, I will stay strong. I will continue to picture my chubby butt in the closet last week, weeping over the mass quantities of clothes on the floor, and the orb that constitutes as my stomach.

Aside from bad daytime tv, I also have a penance for gossip and parenting magazines...Two of my favorites: People and US Weekly, which are basically the same thing, but People has more touchy feely, true stories of real human diligence. Two weeks ago, I picked up the "Weight Loss" issue--I was thinking that there would be tips, diet plans, and honest accounts of how these people had lost the weight. Imagine my surprise when the former fluffies featured had lost the weight  with unrealistic life situations. I don't buy the "I lost 200 pounds by dancing!"...liar. So, I picked up a Parents Magazine and thought I could find some answers from other "real" moms. Moms who claim they lost the weight because they are just "sooo busy with the kids all day" filled this issue--if that was a true way of losing weight, I would be about 92 pounds. Moms that are able to drop the baby weight before they step out of the hospital sicken me...worse, are the ones who continue to lose weight and claim that breastfeeding and pushing a stroller gave them 6 pack abs--I nursed my youngest for over a year, carried him in a sling while climbing stairs all day doing housework, and pushed a stroller, shopping cart, or five year old who fell asleep in the car--by those standards, I should weigh less than my 8 year old.

I'm wondering what I'm going to do with my free "mindless" time now...if I can't watch trash television due to the food ads and smut magazines have begun to fail me, I don't know where else to turn. Don't get me wrong, I read a lot, but, real books don't count as my "mindless time"...those are for educational purposes, they help me expand my vocabulary and give me something to talk about other than my children or the Kardashians. When I can no longer enjoy a talk show dedicated to finding a hard working, toothless mother's 8th attempted baby daddy (as in, she's had 7 others tested, not actually has 8 babies), or a magazine focused on the love life of Reese Witherspoon, I don't know where else to turn. I guess I could watch CNN or read a Newspaper, but, that always had bad news--I live in Texas, so, the weather never really changes--I'm at a crossroads right now. I guess eventually I will grow immune to the food ads, that the delicious double quarter pounder will not tempt me, that I will see my carrot sticks as fuel for a healthy and better body. Until then, I guess I'll have to give up two more pleasures in my life to keep my stresses low and cookies out of my trachea.

Till next time,

Andria