Our Father, Who Art In Heaven, Thank You for the Combo of Peanut Butter and Chocolate

Yesterday, Finn really really wanted to go somewhere while Niamh was at school. He even tried this line, “We can go to the mall and you can buy fancy clothes.” He knows me so well. Still, I just wanted to get the laundry done and stay in Yoga pants all day. I even convinced myself that while Finn napped I would pop in an exercise video and shed a few pounds.

Finn went to bed, I did a quick check of my emails and blogs, added several items to my “want” folder in my favorites file, and then started to search for chocolate peanut butter ice cream recipes. Here is when my plan to shed a few pounds went in the toilet.

The recipe I chose clearly stated, “If you’re trying to exercise self control, don’t make this ice cream. If you’re trying to set an example for your children about moderation, turn away now. This ice cream is proof that God loves us.” I knew I had no business making this ice cream. I am one of those people that has to throw ice cream in the sink and dump vinegar over it to stop myself from eating it. I am one of those people who doesn’t eat anything else all day to save the day’s calories exclusively for ice cream consumption. But, I was so intrigued by the warnings that I went ahead and did it. And, I had all the ingredients in my house already. It felt like I was supposed to make it. I need to know that God loves me, right? (Watch out for that lightening!)

After making the mix, and after pouring myself just a little wee cup of the warm peanut buttery fudgy liquid to drink like a shot of tequila, and after putting it in the fridge to cool, I still had 40 minutes to spare before I had to pick up Niamh from school. Guilt started to overwhelm me. Didn’t I tell Finn that I didn’t want to go anywhere today because I wanted to stay in Yoga pants so that I could exercise while he napped? I had enough time to do my ab ripper video. I did it. And, while transforming my middle in a mere 35 minutes, Finn woke from his nap and sat on the couch behind me, berating me for not getting my legs high enough, or straight enough, and “Mama, why did you stop? The man on the television didn’t stop!” I refrained (but barely) from explaining to him that he is the reason my middle looks the way it does, and please keep your comments to yourself.

Fast Forward 2 hours. I got a message from my friend, Julie, asking me to meet her at Molly Moon’s for ice cream!  When she called, I was in the middle of making a huge lasagna for dinner (because the ice cream wasn’t going to be enough to satiate me after my afternoon work out?). So, I invited Julie and her little guy, Mason, over for dinner and ice cream at my house instead. She couldn’t have called at a better time on a better evening. I was actually cooking a meal large enough to feed a family of 10, I had an open bottle of wine, and the fixings for a nice salad. And, with her help, I wouldn’t eat the entire  batch of ice cream alone! I really was meant to make that ice cream yesterday! It was Divine Intervention! I AM A BELIEVER! (ouch, there’s that lightening again.)

**I wish I had taken a photo of Mason while he was here. He looked so cute in his striped rugby shirt, cuffed jeans, and big kid kicks. Next time.**