I turned to my customary soul soother: sugary treats like chocolates, donuts, cake, pie,
ice cream, pudding. The form didn’t matter as long as it was sweet. Of course the adding
of another one or more thousand calories each day took its toll on me. It wasn’t long
before I was digging in the back of my closet for clothing I’d saved in a larger size during
another time of binging.
I was still working long hours with my calligraphy assignments, and the girls
demanded more and more attention as beginning grade-schoolers who embraced each
new experience with enthusiasm and wanted to talk and talk about them for hours on end.
Marcia Lehr saw what was happening to me. I had long ago put aside everything I’d
learned about portion control in Weight Watchers while attending meetings with her. I
blamed it on cooking to satisfy the children. On not planning a menu for the week ahead.
On Daddy’s death. On my mother’s need for longer talks on the telephone and increased
visits. Or that I couldn’t think straight and had difficulty squeezing in enough time
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