I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

This is my truth. I have food issues. I never realized I had food issues until I was about 31 and was forced to quit smoking by a little thing called pregnancy.

I love food. I was never a dieter. I was fortunate enough through my 20's to be blessed with a combination of a decent metabolism and not really caring enough to worry about the things I put in my body and the effects they had on me. I could gain and lose 15 pounds without much thought so that's what I did.

I have alot of happy memories revolving around food. Family meals were a daily occurrence and we followed the strict weekly menu of any Italian family - pasta two nights a week, Tuna casserole on Fridays (no meat!), steak one night, etc, etc. This is where we sat and ate and laughed and things were good (I'm sure much of this is my perception of reality but its how I remember it). This changed after my father died. Sit down meals became fewer and farther in between but food became a celebratory thing. It was more than a way to fuel my body; it fueled my soul.

As I became older and started working in the restaurant business, food became my pasttime. The restaurant industry breeds its own subculture, with its own ideology, rules and hours. Dining becomes an art for many of us and we spent much of our free time in search of a great food experience. I still miss those days.

So imagine my surprise when at 31, I find out I'm pregnant and unexpectedly have to quit smoking. All of that oral pacification and metabolic fire ripped from my arsenal of coping tools. What to do? I'll tell you what I did - I ate. Alot. I'll admit it - I was not a good pregnant person. In fact - I can do a whole blog on that subject. I was hormonal, stressed and carrying a big baby. It was the 2nd hottest summer on record with multiple 10 day stretches in the upper 90's. I was swollen and adjusting to the fact that I was going to be a mother. I was scared. So I ate. On a side note - I don't get the idea that people eat less in the summer. For me, it's the opposite. Any chance to eat bbq food, ice cream and drink wine coolers is a chance I'm taking.

Motherhood. Another food challenge. Exhausted to the point of nearly losing my mind, I ate to stay awake, comfort myself in moments of colicky despair and to fill the void that cigarettes had left. I found myself eating in front of the refrigerator in the dark. It was not a happy time (not referencing Max here - we all know how I feel about him).

Fast forward 8 years and I can no longer call my excess weight baby fat. I had a revelation this past year after my brother passed away that life is too short to pretend not to see what is looking back at you in the mirror. I had lost any connection between what I put into my body and how it made me feel. I didn't even know what hunger felt like anymore.

I will say that while I am truly thankful that I never had the body image issues that so many young girls have faced, it puts me a little behind the eight ball. When you have spent little time in your life thinking about how you look or how much you are eating, learning that skill at nearly 40 is difficult. But I'm doing it and it's working. And we'll just leave it at that. Fingers crossed.