I hope y’all don’t mind. I’ve saved the juicy emotional eating posts for Tuesdays. It doesn’t start with the same letter or anything, it’s just a day that I feel like I can manage an intelligent post and put some real thought into it.
So…yeah. That leaves us here on autopilot Wednesday. He he he.
You’re still here?
Well, I did have something I wanted to tell you about. Because it makes me feel all super organized and pampered. What is this magical solution?
So glad you asked!
The secret is: I ask for help.
You’ve tried that? Are you sure? Yes, come to think of it, I have too. But I am finally at a place where I’m willing to accept how people choose to help.
No. I’m not saying that I used to throw things back at people or anything. Believe it or not, I am quite docile in public. I also am very appreciative, I just prefer to do it myself. Of course.
But. I just can’t do it. I can’t use all organic ingredients and cook it all by myself anymore. Being couch bound for five or six weeks because Chickadee literally couldn’t live without me doing that taught me a lot.
It is worth my sanity to have macaroni and cheese once every twenty-four days because that is what my 5 year old son knows how to make all by himself. He can throw in a couple of bags of veggies into the microwave with a little help, and viola! Dinner.
Same for my 8 year old. They are not chefs. It is not what I want. But, it is what they want.
And it gives me enough time to feel sane. Less like the banshee of the river canyon come to haunt everyone. Yesterday miss THANG chopped up an onion and made beef stroganoff. We’re cheap and we use hamburger, but she insisted on doing everything herself.
Awesome. That allowed me to hold Chickadee for the umpteenth time while she fought with her sore growing muskles. It also allowed me to breathe deeply and remind myself that I’m all right. That I’m not trapped, and that this…
…might actually be…
That’s right. You heard it first here folks. Enabling my kids is fun. They have so much more respect for the time a meal takes to prepare. And one time, since I was
stuck lucky enough to have them come with me, I made them get all the ingredients for their food at the grocery store.
They think I am the cat’s meow.
Until we put down the whisk/spatula/knife and move on into some other area of life.
So. Item: de-stressification. SUCCESS.
What do you compromise on to make the rest of your life healthier?