Veggie Hangover

Recording and journaling this new year has not been as easy as planned. I pictured myself sipping tea after the kids were in bed and enjoying a short time of reflection... Instead I find myself furiously pecking these musings out on my phone through a brussel sprout induced haze.

Years ago my parents thought it would be wonderful to go on the "Daniel diet" where we were supposed to eat nothing but fruits and vegetables for a month or whatever Daniel did. Normal people call that a vegan diet... Add primordial meat in and you've got the "whole 30" thing we"re doing. Back when we did the Daniel diet, our whole family fell immediately ill. The whole herd of us were crawling around dizzy, light headed, and throwing up. My dad declared the Daniel diet "finished" after a whopping 24 hrs. I swore I would never do that to my kids, but that was before I spent frustrating hours trying to get Jamie to sound out "c-a-t" while he went, "look mommy, coyotes! ... Do you think Darth Vader really became good at the end? How can you tell he's not pretending?....listen to me pop my elbow...can water kill you?... does God exist in the Avengers?... don't let Charlie touch my crayons, he's got cooties like a girl, only worse... etc etc etc.     His brain switches subjects so fast, I can barely keep up...add my gentle (not) motherly (if yelling counts) prodding to get his school done, and... Oy.   We needed a new plan of attack.   And this is how I ended up today with my carb-sugar craving body FREAKING out over my oh-gosh-why-can't-I-have-noodles existence.   And yes...just like with the Daniel diet of yore, we've all thrown up today.  It's been barrels of fun. 

Sprinkled with moments of hilarity watching a new human taste various foods for the first time


But enough of the bright spots, and on to more whining.  Laundry!  Mother of Mt Vesuvius bless us all.   Why do I do this to myself?  I put off washing clothes until the eleventh hour, and then I cannot catch up.  Also, my nomadic family has been in and out for the last four months, which means my house is a giant archeological dig featuring The Summervilles.   A sock here...a shirt there... pillows...blankets...sleeping pads...magazines...deodorant... all creeping out of everywhere.   I've been studiously ignoring it up until now, because there's no reason to get upset over something one can't control, but oh oh oh...now I've got sick babies, and school starting, and my house is in tatters.  And not the type of tatters, that can be fixed easily either. 

Speaking of broken things.   I'm posting a picture of the elephant Jamie made, because I'm sure it won't survive his childhood, as it can't be pressed into a memory book, but I think it's adorable and want to remember it.  Her name is Elefante, because Jamie continues his lifelong preference of calling a spade, a spade.  But as he pointed out, he muchly prefers the Spanish "f" vs. the obnoxious English "ph=f".  ("elefante" being one of maybe five Spanish words he knows thanks to my little sister Julia).

This peppermint tea is fantastic. Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all.