Day 6: The day it was OK to eat a McFlurry

Yes, I ate a McDonald's McFlurry after 9 p.m. And I feel GREAT.

The point of this blog was to figure out what I can change and what I can't. Or Won't. And when my high school senior, on the night of his last band concert, asks me if I want to get something to eat afterwards, I accept despite the Bloated Sheep baaing in my head.

And when he continues to drive to McDonalds, even after he realizes I don't have any money on me and he will have to purchase our treats, the baaing grows more and more faint.

And when we're at the pay window of McDonalds, laughing because we are trying to find $.56 in change in his ridiculously dirty car because he thought his gift card had $10 on it but really it only had $5, I forgot about calories and just enjoyed the McFlurry.

That isn't 100% how it went. Honestly, the bloated sheep was a little louder than I would have liked. I didn't eat all of my McFlurry. And I'm not sure how I feel about it; on one hand, the memory of getting the McFlurry makes me want to indulge guilt-free into the calories. On the other hand, if it's about the memory then I shouldn't feel bad that I ate less than half of my treat.

Food guilt is a funny thing. Because ice cream has been an often-used medium for family bonding, I feel like I dishonored the kid's gift by not eating it. I am fighting feelings of guilt as I stare at the melted mess of caramel and ice cream - what kind of mom is more worried about calories than celebrating with her kid?

And yet, I DID eat it. I ate a little under half. I tasted it, and enjoyed it, and it HAS TO BE OK that I didn't eat it all! Ugh - apparently the Clean Plate Club isn't letting me out without a fight!

The guilt stops here. McFlurry Night.