I have a confession to make.
I have an unhealthy relationship with food. I love food and I tell myself that food loves me too. When I’m feeling down (sad, lonely, angry, stressed, bored, whatever), I eat. And it’s not like I eat things that are good for me. You will not find me wrist deep in a bag of carrot sticks. No way. You’ll find me stuffing my face with comfort food. A.K.A. junk food. Brownies, chips (Cheetos especially), candy bars and whatever else I can dig up. They are like family to me. I can always count on them. I don’t know when this started or if it’s gotten worse the last few years, but this relationship has been one I have known about for quite some time now. I’ve just never really talked about it. Sometimes I feel better after I eat them. Sometimes I feel guilty. And sometimes, like now, I feel like I’ve eaten enough to feed an army. I’m uncomfortably full. Worse, I’m too full, feeling guilty, and still unhappy. They let me down. They weren’t there to make me feel better. Right now I don’t think they care more about me than any other person who eats them.
The reasons I’m upset don’t even matter. Part of it is just normal things that all parents have to deal with from time to time. The other half shouldn’t matter either. I keep telling myself that it’s okay. In the grand scheme of life, it doesn’t affect me at all. That I can’t have everyone like me. That I have plenty of people that do like me and they are the ones that matter. What’s ironic is I remember giving this very advice to a fellow blogger. That she shouldn’t let the people who don’t recognize her greatness get her down. That it’s their loss. Funny how the universe has a way of throwing that back in my face.
As a total shift in subject, the blog where I found this picture is actually pretty funny. It’s written by a nun and she’s got some spunk in that Catholic sort of way. Being a disenchanted ex-Catholic myself, I was surprised to find myself continuing to read her posts and even laughing now and again. But I guess being a nun doesn’t take away your sense of humor.
Remember when I talked about how the early dismissals at my daughter’s school would interfere with nap time? Yeah, it’s been fun around here. I’ve been pushing my son’s nap back until after we get her picked up and home. Unfortunately, he falls asleep on our way to the school and wakes up when I try to get him into his bed. And I haven’t been able to get him to go back to sleep. If I’m lucky, he’ll lay in bed for half and hour. So the time that I need to work on writing has turned into just enough time to start something and then turns into breaking up the verbal World War III. They don’t hit each other (usually) but bicker and argue until my three year old is crying and then my ten year old starts crying because she’s the one in trouble. You would think with that big of an age difference between them, they would get along and just play nicely. Only in my dreams does that happen. I can only imagine what the next six days are going to be like. I need to start planning plenty of activities to get them out of the house. Sigh. So if my posts don’t come out as regularly as they had been, or I don’t comment on your blogs as often, just think of me and send some patience and peace my way. I know I’m going to need it.