I generally eat too much when I am celebrating. I don’t think I am the only one. My very favorite moment from the sitcom Friends is when Joey steals Pheobe’s maternity pants and declares them his Thanksgiving pants. That is a way of celebrating I understand. I mean, over-eating at holiday meals is as American as apple pie.

So I like the feast. So what?

I love feasting. I love celebrating. I love planning for a month, grocery shopping for a week, cooking all day, and lingering over the dinner table for hours. I love it. I love loving the people I love by cooking them the things they love. I love the feast.

But lately I have been taking a hard look at my eating habits, and found something kind of ugly amidst the love-filled feasting that is happening at my house for birthdays and holidays, and the very rare date nights out when I actually get to eat dinner with my husband.

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