The time a movie about food almost killed me. Or at least my afternoon.
I have been feeling tired lately. Exhausted, really. Most days 11:30 am hits and you can find me laying face down on the floor of the girls room "playing dolls." Which really means my eyes are closed and my right arm is outstretched with a doll in my hand. I will be the first to admit that my play skills are greatly hindered by the fact I am trying to sleep. Once in a while I will shake the doll or throw out a dolly phrase to make it seemed like I am being, you know, a mom. The next half hour generally goes something like this,
Zuzu: Mommy? Are you playing dollies with me? Get up! Play dollies with me!
Me, eyes still closed: Oh I am, honey. The poor dolly is sick! So I am just laying down with her. You don't want her to lay down by herself do you?
Zuzu: Oh. Well I am Doctor Zuzu and she is all better now! So now you can both get up!
Me, one eye open: Doctor Zuzu I hate to tell you this, but Miss Dolly was bit by a Tsetse fly. Yes, the dolly has the sleeping sickness and she may never get up again. We should just let me, ummm I mean her, rest.
At which point she looks at me like I am crazy and plays by herself until I get up, wipe the drool off my face and am ready to live again.
I accept that my current situation in life means that I will never be truly well rested. Toddlers and babies do not believe in eight hours of sleep a night. However, I do not think that I should be falling into a daily coma. Also, I should stop telling my daughter her dolls have contracted exotic illnesses. Probably.
It seems that perhaps, just maybe, I am not eating the way I should be. Like it might be good to eat more than 800 calories a day. And it would be even better if those 800 calories did not consist of only donuts, Cheezits and secret handfuls of Margaret's Skittles (Oh, honey I am not sure where the candy Grandma got you went. Really.). On Friday, I sat down to plan a month's worth of healthy meals and snacks. And being the multi-tasker I am (ha!) I turned on a documentary called Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. Because nothing motivates healthy eating like a two hour long movie on the benefits (nay, the necessity!) of a juice fast...right?
Oh my goodness. As the movie progressed so did my anxiety. Throughout the documentary Joe "Mr. Juicefast" Cross interviewed a supposedly "accurate" cross section of America. Nearly everybody who disliked the idea of the juice fast was extraordinarily overweight, apparently semi-literate and toothless. Meanwhile, the people that were supportive of fast were nearly all thin, "educated" and white toothed. Didn't I know that bread and meat were straight from the Devil? Couldn't I feel that soda was eating away at the material of my soul? Had I no sense of damage that cheese danish could do to my physical, mental and spiritual well being? The implications were clear. If I wanted to keep my teeth (and continue to speak using correct grammar) I had to start drinking good Mother Earth's bounty. And as I sucked up the documentary my pen flew across my paper creating meals, each healthier than the next. By the end of the film I had designed a menu that relied heavily on lentil croquettes and spinach pulp. Let me write that again...Lentil croquettes and spinach pulp.
I needed an intervention. So I called Riley, hyperventilating and positive it was spinach pulp or Death. He told me to never spend two hours on menu planning again. He may have forbidden me from watching any more documentaries (apparently, I am a little...excitable). He suggested I take a walk.
So I did. I breathed and thought and stopped thinking and breathed again. And then I came home and threw out my five pages of healthy hysteria, one of which may have contained the note: Don't I love my children enough to drink a beet, onion and chard slushie? Yes, there is a question for the ages.
Despite Riley's warning, I did sit down and menu plan again the next day. The meals were still healthy and the snacks mostly fruit and vegetables. I even included the fixings for an apple, beet and carrot juice, because I am progressive like that. But this time, along with the spinach, I included bacon and cheese and bread. And bread. And bread. And did I mention...bread? Because I guess I don't mind if I lose a few teeth. And I have been known to use "ain't" instead of "isn't". And I believe in moderation of all things. And bacon.
Yes, I believe in bacon.
Now if you will excuse me, there is a dolly that needs saving from the bite of the Tsetse fly.