Helloooooo carbs!

My whole life I have never thought a thing about my weight. As a teenager I was as thin as a rake, and could fully devour anything set in front of me, with no consequences whatsoever. Even after gaining a whopping 50 plus pounds with my first daughter, and falling pregnant (just why exactly do they call it that? Is there some sort of science to falling and becoming pregnant? I'm going to test that theory out....must go slip on some ice today.....) again 5 months after her birth, the weight came off with little effort (the little effort actually comprised of chasing a toddler around while nursing a newborn, and constantly changing two sets of diapers). I say all that with tongue in cheek, because "and then the 30's came" (duh-duh-duh...that's my scary music notes). Something magical happened overnight. My "hind quarters" seemed to develop into the best cleavage I've ever had (as much as I desired it to be the other way around..it just never happens that way...), and I noticed that my thighs began to whisper to me while I walked...I can't quite place what they were saying except maybe " 'scuse me, pardon me". And somewhere along the way my cheekbones decided to disappear...I found it hard every morning to know for sure where my blush ought to be applied to. So, after some soul searching and sugar detoxing I decided my body was in need of a makeover. That was at 31 years old. I lost my 25 pounds that I needed to in order to not look pregnant yet again, and since then I've done pretty well. I'm not what you would call a "professional dieter"...I just am a little careful with portion control (okay, sometimes....) and keep a distant eye (notice I didn't say "careful"?) on my carb intake. HOWEVER, as of lately, I'm finding those little jobs to be somewhat difficult. I have been baking our Christmas-y goodies, making yummies for others (and you do know that it is an unwritten rule that you must try all things before you send them out for others to eat...), and today our sweet, elderly neighbor (yes, most of them around us are elderly) brought us a plate FULL of cookies and fudge. A girl just can't win. My spirit is willing, but my flesh is sooooo very weak. Ah, well...I guess when my thighs begin whispering sweet nothings to me again, it'll be time to go to carb rehab...