Is it still a diet if I eat Hersey's?

Halloween candy goes a long way towards making dieting bearable, if you ask me. I can just about tolerate a chicken breast and salad if I know that the Junior Mints are safely hidden in the freezer.

I have missed you, bloggerly friends. It's been rather too long since I have taken the time to sit down and type, and obviously it's been nearly a month since I found the peace required to write here. This kind of writing requires an uninterrupted hour of peace for me, so that I can mull over my thoughts and play with the words. I can say with complete honesty that I have not had an uninterrupted hour to myself since the last time I blogged. Halloween candy goes a long way toward making that bearable, too.

Two main events have conspired together to rob me of my time, although there is a third element at work here, too. The third element has everything to do with the "diet" I keep subtly bringing to your attention. You know that I have suffered from the effects of a lethargic thyroid gland, resulting in a sloth-like state and a consequential weight gain. This condition is being successfully managed with a very welcome daily medication. Therefore, Kelly has her groove back. This is all to say that my religious commitment to shedding those unsightly pounds has dominated the better part of my days and determination. The sheer effort alone should burn some calories. I'm not diminishing very quickly, despite my rigorous treadmill regimen. No doubt the candy habit needs to be reevaluated.

The two main events which have held me captive relate to two men in the house.
Tim, my extraordinary husband, received a promotion at work (applaud here). I am extremely proud of him. He is working more than he used to, however, and I am feeling the pressure to be Super Wife. Not that I am actually doing more than I was doing before, but I certainly feel like I ought to. He's actually a better housekeeper/cook than I am, and so I am really feeling his absence during the days.

Michael is the other man in the house. He has recently returned from the wilds of Arizona, and has been doing all that a young man must when moving. Like, looking for a job, carefully distributing a wardrobe upon the bedroom carpet, and staring at facebook. Michael is 18, and as social as a person can be. He has quite a bot of personality, and is therefore very engaging. Being engaging is time consuming for the engag-er and the engage-ee. Of course, taking one's child job hunting takes a lot of time, too. As does stocking the pantry for a teenaged fellow.
I've been swamped, is all I'm saying.

I'm not eating a lot of candy. Really, I'm not. And, honestly, it's one little fun-sized dark chocolate bite of therapy, or a grumpy mom. Given the option, my kids are choosing to share the candy.