It's 9:20 and the kids are eating chips and salsa for their bedtime snack, a few feet away. A loaf of whole-wheat bread, fresh from the bread machine, is cooling on the counter. I happen to know there is a cabinet over the stove that is stuffed full of dark chocolate and leftover Halloween candy. Plus, there's about two and a half pounds of my favorite pasta salad in the fridge, right next to a big bowl of leftover steak-and-black-bean fajitas.
Right now, I am not tempted to eat any of it. I mean, it's true that a few hours ago I almost ate a piece of salami the kids dropped on the floor, but I didn't, and right now I'm hungry but okay.
I could feel my stomach growling as I drove home from picking up Oscar at his evening class, about an hour ago. I noticed something interesting: I wasn't thinking of the growly tummy as a "bad" sensation, Something About Which Something Must Be Done. It was just… well, there, the way my tiredness was there near the end of the day. Both will stop bothering me when I fall asleep tonight. I'll be ravenous in the morning, and that is just fine, because in the morning there will be an egg.
It's just there… something I don't need to deal with now, something I can deal with later.
This has taken practice.