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I still dream of baked goods

A new recurring dream has entered my subconscious. It joins the oldies-but-goodies: the college class I've never attended until the final, the drives past my grandparents' farm, the hidden rooms in our house...
In my waking hours, I studiously avoid cakes, cookies, scones, muffins and the multiple variations of pie that seem to be part of any community occasion in Pardeeville. This is not nourishment. This is ballast. If I need grains and carbs, and I believe I do, then I'll get them in small doses from cereal bars, multi-grain flatbread, a little granola with yogurt, a Nutrigrain toaster-heated waffle, a bowl of oatmeal or the 100-calorie multi-grain English muffins that we keep on top of the fridge.
But at night, during REM sleep, I chow down on corn bread with butter and real maple syrup, pizza, birthday cake, Christmas cookies...and I wake up feeling both relieved that it was only a dream and guilt-ridden for having dreamed it.
And autumn is almost here. Already I'm craving the aroma, if not the taste, of apple crisp baked with locally-grown apples, oatmeal cookie mix and tons of brown sugar.
I'm at a stage now where I have to fight, with the same strategy and zeal I previously employed to lose about 10 pounds per month, just to stay within five pounds plus-or-minus my goal weight.  Veggies, lot of veggies. I even did that on my recent Arizona vacation, when I was tickled to find that the poolside bar and grill offered a tray of raw carrots, celery, peppers, cucumbers and radishes.
I eat a light protein-rich breakfast every morning, but I make sure I do eat, without fail.
Don't get me wrong -- I still enjoy my 80-calorie yogurt and my salsa-topped Egg Beaters omelet.
But damn it, I want corn bread. I want a cinnamon roll, even one of those foamy grocery-store rolls with the icing that comes off in one piece, like a coat of wax.
And when I had coffee yesterday with a dear, dear friend whom I hadn't seen in years, I wanted a scone to go with my black, unsweetened dark-roast java. I didn't have a scone, but I craved one.
I have seen too much, and written too often about, honest-to-goodness addiction -- to substances like alcohol, illicit drugs and prescription painkillers -- to compare my cravings to a crippling physical and psychological dependence. But in some ways, the 12-step perspective helps, especially steps 1 through 3:

  1. Admitting that, by myself, I am powerless to overcome my cravings.
  2. Believing in, and calling on, a Power greater than myself.
  3. Deciding -- daily, even hourly -- to turn myself over to that Higher Power.

Complete abstention from baked goods, however, is not an option for me. But I have strategies.
Once in a great, great while, I'll take a cookie if it's offered. Just one cookie.
At Christmas, I don't bake up a storm the way I used to. But I will buy maybe a half-dozen iced sugar cookies. That's three for me and three for Jay, over the course of the celebration.
And for my birthday: Cake pops. One Starbuck's cake pop has about 160 calories. It's a small, celebratory indulgence, provided I don't eat more than one.
Holidays, as I've mentioned, can be tough. Here's what Jay and I did for our last Thanksgiving: marinated grilled turkey cutlets, with acorn squash. And no pumpkin pie.




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