I’ve learned that when the hummingbirds migrate for the winter, brownies are my best friend. You know the Ghiradelli kind, of course, the ones with triple chocolate chips. They are unlike any other. Warm. Gooey. Messy in all the right ways. But lately, I feel I like I purposely lost my half to our best friends necklace. I’m sorry, Brownies. We have to friend break up because I learned that I have an amoeba infection. Apparently, the microscopic amoeba bastards like sugar. A lot. It appears that I have been providing them with the perfect environment for an orgy of sorts. They have been getting it on like rabbits. Or amoeba, I suppose. I don’t want my body to be a fancy vacation rental home for amoeba whose credit card is declined. I don’t want the pain of cramping, the annoyingness of diarrhea, sleeplessness and fatigue that amoeba tend to carry in their duffel bags.

So, I have now been eating a no sugar diet for ten days. I think. It’s not like I am counting the days or remembering every dessert that I have had to no longer leave room for in my belly. You see, for a girl like me, dinner has always been the home-town opening act of sorts. And well, dessert has always been the headliner. My Justin Timberlake.

Ever since I was a kid, my brain focused on one thing. “Must. Get. Dessert.” Do whatever you must do to get dessert. I would sneak food in my pockets, under my napkins, in my mouth (to go spit out in the toilet) and so on. One time, I remember cramming some food under the coffee mug at a Cracker Barrel restaurant on a family road trip because, “if you don’t eat your dinner, you don’t get dessert.” I should probably write an apology letter, decades later, to the waitress who had to clean that up. But, did I get dessert? You bet.

There are only a few sugary things I have missed out on this past ten days. Most of which, I have strangely chosen to make from scratch for my family. Similar to the weird and addicting trend to watch somebody play with toys on Youtube, I have found some amount of comfort in watching others eat sugary foods. I am also pretty competitive so I have inner dialogue with the amoeba folk. “You think I can’t make chocolate chip cookies without eating one? You’re on, amoeba bitches.”

Then, I show them who is boss. Self control, I need you now tonight. And I need you more than ever. Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I’m only falling apart.

There’s nothing I can do. It’s a total eclipse of the heart.

It’s me. Not them. I’m in charge. It’s my body. And my body belongs to me. The party is over, sugar addicts.

I thought I should jot down my sugar diary lodged in my memory into a bullet format:

• I have baked brownies which is my go-to dessert move. But this next one was new, I made homemade caramel sauce for said brownies. Then, I scooped ice cream. Brownie sundaes. Duh.
• A few days later, I made chocolate chip cookies. Holy hell. Do you know how hard it is to NOT taste-test the batter? Thank goodness, my five year old could do it for me. I should have YouTubed it.
• To celebrate Mardi Gras, I made two cinnamon King cakes. We had friends over so there could be an even bigger crowd for me to watch eat the cake. Maybe I have a problem.
• Later in the week, I thought we should use those free Lamar’s donuts coupons. And I may be in withdrawal and hearing things due to the lack of sugar, but I am pretty sure I heard several of my favorite donuts crying behind the glass. I turned my back on them.
• Oh man, at a family birthday party, I even had the self control to skip out on my mom’s homemade strawberry cake with it’s best friend in tow, Costco vanilla ice cream.
• Typically, when I pick up laundry in my boys’ rooms, I usually snag a piece or two of their candy (don’t get all judgey. It’s kind of like I imagine them giving me a tip in candy form for doing their laundry. “Thanks Mom, for picking up those clothes right next to the hamper. Here’s a snack size twix bar.”) I haven’t eaten any of their candy. In ten days. Doing laundry really sucks now. Maybe my husband will accidentally leave a five dollar bill in his jeans pocket. A girl can dream.
• Enough of these bullets. This is getting more sad than I intended.

The point is, if I must have one, that it’s really hard to change behavior, make sacrifices, stand out or do things differently. It’s challenging to alter the way we think, feel and act. Eating is a huge part of our lives. Physically. Emotionally. Socially. Spritually. We plan our next meal, think about food, indulge in food and perhaps, as I have learned about myself, over-indulge in food. I have had my momentary pity parties, but for the most part, I have kept a great attitude because I truly feel better. Just don’t tell Brownies yet. It has helped tremendously that I have a supportive husband and sweet kids to cheer me on. Stevia, (the only sugar substitute I have approval to use) has not helped. That stuff is just nasty. I will take my coffee black, thank you very much.

When my 21 days of eating and drinking a no sugar diet are done, I hope to stay in tune and conscious of my sugar intake because I think it’s a healthy practice for my body, mind and soul.

In breaking fickle best friend news, my current new best friend is Bengal Spice tea. Celestial Seasonings doesn’t play around when they make their tea. They must have people on sugar-free diets in mind. All the flavor, no sugar. No caffeine either. Say what? Get ya some.