"Right Into the Danger Zone"

I find myself here again. In the place where danger lurks behind every door, just waiting to pounce. Its vicious nature almost too much to handle. I can describe it in one word - Temptation. With a capital T.
It all starts at Thanksgiving, with Mother's raisin butter tarts and pumpkin pie just jumping off serving plates and into the open mouths of loved ones without daring to ask permission first. That, coupled with the butter-soaked baked stuffing, distorts my willpower and taunts incessantly.
Then comes Halloween. Grocery shopping becomes a torturous unwanted adventure as bags of bite sized chocolate and gooey-chewy candy line the aisles, threatening to fall into my cart if I create the slightest breeze as I walk by. These single serving portions are almost justifiable except that one always leads to six before I've even taken a breath.
Christmas is a whole 'nother beast. That food-fest lasts for weeks as family and friends gather around buffet tables stocked with Christmas pudding, fudge and peanut brittle, the supply well outweighing the demand.
Food isn't the only temptation digging its claws into my ribs. The need to be hunting the stores for the perfect gift leads me straight into distraction, otherwise known as the shoe section. (I know, I know. The shoe section is not typically the area one buys Christmas gifts for their parents but it simply pulls me around the corner  and right into its clutches.) Boxing day (week? or is it month?) sales are just too strong for my weak {shopping} immune system.
It's all too much. Too much food. Too much sugar. Too much power.
But what is a diabetes-ridden, fashion-obsessed woman supposed to do? I am open to suggestion.
 Maybe since I am entering the danger zone I should get myself a wing man (woman?).
A wise soldier going into battle always has someone watch their back.
Any takers?