Sugar-coat it...please

I like baked goods and candy. There, I have said it. We can talk about sugary confections at length, provided you are going to offer me something that has some general resemblance to what is being discussed. Brown sugar, molasses and enriched flour? What could be more soothing? It probably seems, to the untrained or unfamiliar eye, that I do not like or know how to relax. While my methods and practices may appear unconventional, relaxation does manage to find its way into my life.

I understand the part exercise can play in a rational person's path to unwinding. I just often prefer to pave that road with rock candy, turn on the headlights, and search for gummy bears and other forest crullers critters. Sorry, I got distracted. So as I was saying, I have nothing against exercise. You can feel free to engage in aerobic fitness at any time, provided it does not interrupt my own relaxation time. Just to clarify, here are some examples of exercise that bother me:

• If I am sitting on the beach, I have no appreciation for a man doing his stretching and push up routine in the sand behind me. Granted, he was not blocking my view of the waves, but just knowing he was back there had a negative impact on my lounging. 
• When I sit down at the end of what I have deemed a full day, I do not take kindly to the sound of my husband on the elliptical. How can I enjoy a handful of m&m's and a soft sofa cushion with the sounds of those foot pedals taunting me in the background?

Make no mistake, there are some rare occasions when baked goods fail to lull me into a carefree confectionery sugar dusted haze. This is not to say that I will send a mini-chocolate chip encrusted cannoli packing. That would be rude and wasteful.

However, when the accompanying bakery box that is brought home has a disproportionate amount of goodies in relation to the number of snackers in our house, I get nervous...especially when the husband reveals his plan to eat none of the gluten fest selections.

My sugar racing mind, that has been fueled by cannoli cream has nowhere to run except to some sort of Hansel and Gretel scenario. Why is he trying to fatten us up? How much energy does he think two teenagers expend on one summer afternoon to warrant such a caloric landslide? As if checking his pedometer, running away on the elliptical and his sauntering through the kitchen in his gel lined bike shorts aren't enough to remind me of his commitment to healthy activity. Then he has to display self-control and willpower as well? Nothing spoils a perfectly decent brownie quicker that gloating, or at least the illusion of gloating I have created.

I suppose it stands to reason that baked goods fit into my meditation plans more often than yoga. I tend to use the excuse of how much time exercise takes, as in probably one-third of the time it took me to sit writing this post. It is just not that easy to eat rice crispy treats and do pilates at the same time.

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