Happy candy-versary

Yesterday was a very special day for me, a day I am very proud of, my one week candyversary. Yesterday marked one week of me being candy free.

I wasn't sure I would make it this far. Seriously there were some dark days directly following Halloween. I am happy to say I have come out the other end a stronger, wiser person. Enlightened not only by the experience, but also by the fact that my blood is no longer 25% corn syrup.

I'm not typically much of a quitter. Then again, I have never had quite as much candy to get through as we did this year. Three separate trick-or-treating events, plus I purchased some (my favorites, obviously) to give out at our house despite knowing full well that we'd be out trick-or-treating ourselves during that time and therefore never gave any of those away. At the end of it all we had one overflowing plastic pumpkin, a spare bucket and a serving bowl full of all those "fun size" treats. And they were fun... for a time.

I admit, it was a glorious Halloween weekend as I savored, then devoured, then just plain binged on treat after treat. Monday hit, and I realized my candy addiction had taken over. I was out of control: sneaking candy at all hours, double-packing while the kid was at school, single-biting the three-biters in the evenings. It was a long road from Halloween to the point when I knew I had to quit cold turkey. A long, sugar-y, chocolate-y road that at some points I truly believed had the power to destroy me. My teeth ached at the end of each night. Knowing the end was nigh, I really went for it on the last night, alternating Mike & Ike's and Raisinettes by the fistful. I felt like my teeth were about to fall out in protest. And so, nine sticky-fingered days after the party started, the party had to end. Not just because we were down to only Baby Ruths, off-brand lollipops and the odd flavored Tootsie Rolls, but because something in my gut (sugar) told me it was time.

That following day was my first day towards the new me: the me that didn't need candy to get through the night, to have fun, to exist. No, I just needed a strong will and maybe a bowl of ice cream here and there. Hey! Heroin addicts get meth, I needed something to take the edge off... and meth just reminds me of rock candy so that never would have worked.

The first few days were rough. The plastic orange jack o' lantern taunting me every day: "Eat what's in my head!" "Do it!" "You know you are curious about the citrus flavored Tootsies!" But then a few days in I realized I had nearly made it to the weekend, and then by the end of the weekend I knew I just might be in the clear.

Sure I could have made it easier on myself. I didn't have to leave the pumpkin out, but why should my daughter have to go without just because I can't control myself. *For the record, to date, she has consumed no more than 9 total pieces of Halloween candy of any shape, size or flavor and this is not due to my rationing (I don't do that) or making her go without. To be honest, I could have used her help getting through it all. But no, strange as it may be, the little dear just didn't care for any more than what she had. It works out to not even one piece a day. I mean really, what is that all about?

And yes, of course I could have donated it... somewhere. That's the thing though, I am not sure where you take it to donate it, didn't really feel like doing the research and frankly, I did enjoy the early days of sampling all my favorites whenever I wanted. Breastfeeding = Insatiable. Seemingly endless candy supply = Awesome. By the time I knew I needed help, it was too late for donating. In truth I just felt kind of sad for whomever would receive the end lot as a donation... smarties and candies that look like they came from someone's grandmother's purse make a horrible donation. Who wants that? No one. Thankfully not even me, which was exactly the boost I needed to give it all up.

I would like to thank my dear friends and family for supporting me throughout this past week. Your love and support are invaluable always. A special thank you to our babysitter who, after being prompted by my begging, took several pieces for herself. A big thank you to my husband for ignoring the extra padding that now exists. A big screw you to my mom for bringing the candy that was leftover at her house to my house. Not cool mom, not cool. I understand peanut M&Ms give you heartburn, but I shouldn't have to eat them all either (yes, that's the kind of gluttonous logic that we use in our family).

So, here I am. Just over one week later and I feel much better already. I know that I didn't quit candy for good but I did quit candy for now, which means I can do it. So maybe I will treat myself with that knowledge and have "just one" tonight. Seriously, just one.