I am eating a frozen pizza as a write this. My kid is eating a frozen pizza. She's eating a pizza after watching a few hours of Youtube videos because I fell asleep. I'm really not feeling the parenting thing today. Mostly I feel that something has to change. My family is not healthy. We don't eat right, drink our water, communicate effectively, manage our money effectively, or even keep our house clean (straightened maybe, but not clean). This isn't to say we are a bunch of fat slobs who sit around yelling at each other. No. We get along. My kids do pretty good in school. We have dogs. But I always feel like we've set up home at the edge of the cliff. One hard rainfall and we all go sliding down the mountainside. I don't want that. So I'm hoping that if I (and maybe my kids) can start writing about our change...then maybe we can actually make that change. We'll see...
The dog ate Superbunny. Not the whole thing. She just ate the face off. You can still see the stitched mouth and nose, but the button eyes are long gone. It's not the first thing the dog has eaten. She's eaten a few pairs of shoes, some random housewares, a roll of toilet paper and too many dinosaurs to count. But Superbunny hit a nerve. See, much of motherhood is sacrifice. Not noble sacrifices like laying down your life, but ignoble ones, like not ever sitting down to dinner without someone using the word fart. In fact, one day my kids will thank me for not smacking them every time they purposely worked the word poop into an otherwise clean conversation. Much of my time is spent waiting for somebody or repeating something or reprimanding them for stuff I never though I had to tell them not to do. It's worth it, but it takes a toll on one's psyche after a while. Especially since kids are completely clueless that you might want to be doing something else. Has if I