I love my husband. And I know he loves me. But he is a saboteur. To sabotage is to deliberately destroy, damage or obstruct. OK - so most of the time he claims he is making an innocent gesture and not a deliberate act of obstruction. But he destroys my willpower, damages my carb counts and obstructs my A1C goals.
But why do people hand you a piece of pie and say, “don’t worry, its just a little piece.” Why can’t he understand I’ve already done the math and made a decision and the answer is no. “Go ahead, it won’t hurt” really does hurt. Because I’m human and you don’t know how much sometimes I want to eat that pie. “What’s a little pie between friends, I won’t tell.” My conscience already knows!
Couldn’t he keep his cookies and chips and pie on a shelf behind closed doors instead of it sitting on the counter calling my name? And baby it knows my name and how to spell it (f-o-o-l). But he forgets. And he’s never had hips. I really think that he doesn’t think like I do.
So I’ve learned what every other mother of four can do - tune it out. And we have our little talks about what every diabetic family should know. And he slices another piece of pie. Al’a mode.
And when I finally tune it out there’s good old Catholic Guilt. Yep, in capital letters. He comes home with something fresh baked and says, “but I bought it just for you.” Yikes! Its not just dripping with icing, but with guilt! I can’t turn it down and hurt his feelings. My mind says no but my willpower says claim PMS and have at that chocolate! Have you ever said thank you and quietly thrown it away. I have. I feel badly just thinking about it.
My darling saboteur. You make me crazy. Even though I love you I just have to also love myself and say no.