annieology

This ain’t my first rodeo.  I’ve been watching poorly dressed men hide behind barrels some twenty years now.  If you don’t get that reference, then, I guess, it IS your first.  So, here are some tips.

Get them ready the night before – Most parenting sites have this tip.  Pick out their clothes the night before.  If you want to be truly awesome, DRESS them the night before.  Why go thru the hassle of a wardrobe change at 7:00 a.m. when you can can completely eliminate it.  This will give the kids five more minutes of sleep, and I think we can all agree how important sleep is.

Feed them.  Or don’t.  I’ve had 24 kids.  Some eat in the morning.  Some don’t.  They all should, you can lead a horse to water and all.  You want to make your morning truly enjoyable (a total living hell) get into a power struggle with a five year old about the amount of milk there is or isn’t in a bowl of Cheerio’s.  #lose #lose

School supplies.  They should have some.  Unsure of what to get?  Things to write with.  Things to write on.  Maybe some glue.  If you feeling particularly self important get a binder.  I’ve discovered that it doesn’t matter what you send that first day, they always come home with a list, or 15 of things that are also needed.  I take advantage of the fact that everyone else is home filling out 72 pages of “who can pick up my kid” type paperwork and go hit the stores after I get the addendum’s. Plus, everything is on sale so I buy two and am prepared for next year. (as far as you know)

Get them to bed at a reasonable time.

Who am I?

God?

Can I perform miracles?  No.  Plus, if they have to fall asleep during math a couple of times to learn that sleep is important, so be it.  If they get left behind, not my problem.  I am quite comfortable with the fact that some kids do need to be left behind, maybe even mine.  Let’s be honest now, someone is holding your kid back, you know it.  Your little Susie is not that stupid.

Pack them a nutritious lunch.  Or if you live in my town, don’t.  I’m still begging Jamie Oliver to come to our town, which is the fattest city in America.  I have a bit of foodie crush on him, and after having been stuck in London during the Volcano thingy earlier this spring, Tech Support may not ever take me back.  Let’s pause a moment while I drool over the bruschetta again.

Expect the worst.  They may not miss you.  You’ll be fine.  Just think about how much cleaning you can get done when they aren’t following behind you squishing blueberries and chocolate into the berber.

Today, a poem.

Vomit before sunrise.

Three loads of laundry.

Breakfast.

Waiting. Whining. Wailing.

Last day of summer camp?

We Throw Frisbees?

and now the random

Where the hell did my summer go?  Hello, Twitter.  You know you owe me at least three weeks.  Dr. Pepper is following me on Twitter.  Coca-Cola however is not.  I can take a hint.  Not well.  But I can.

Have I ever told you that my neighbors named their dog after me?  Yes.   I hate going outside only to hear,

“ANNIE STOP POOPING IN THE NEIGHBORS YARD.”

sorry, but technically…it is MY yard.

We have a new CPS worker.  She is “sending” me paperwork that I need to enroll the orphans into school.  I’ll keep you posted.  Don’t hold your breath.  Feel free to cross your fingers, but I don’t want anyone passing out.

I just remembered I haven’t gone to a turtle release this year.  What the heck kind of coastal resident am I?  I’m calling them now….August 11-15 ish.  Yay.  I love to do that.  Why do I always wait until the last one?  At the end of the summer, when I’m tired and my hopes are dashed.  When my kids know less than they did three months ago…

Oh, to be young and hopeful again.

I will be almost 40 in about four weeks.  Not 40, that is a year away, I have a year of people saying “oh, you’re almost 40″ thank you math genius.  Let’s just skip 39 and be 40 because I think almost 40 is going to be worse.  I don’t know why.  It reminds me of high school.  Oh, you’re almost old enough to drive, vote, drink…not necessarily in that order, but never at the same time.  Yeah, I know.  There is something awesome on the other side of the curtain, thanks .

Anyway….I gotta get up early, there is a breakfast session at #HomeHer10 – I think it’s called, “Mom has a headache and I didn’t teach you to use the microwave for no reason.”

When I was a kid I had to wait for someone to drag their ass to a stove to cook breakfast for me, there weren’t no fancy microwavable breakfasts, not that we were allowed anywhere near that thing lest we become forever sterile and ridden with tumors.  My kids are lucky.

As I watched Jamie Oliver make a “chicken nugget” on Food Revolution, I vowed to stopped eating fully processed foods.  Even with the disclaimer “this is not how they make them in America” it made me realize that I really didn’t know where my food was coming from, how it was being made, or who was making it.

The final kicker came while watching Jillian Michaels asking someone why they would choose to suck at life.  If awesome is an option, why wasn’t I choosing awesome?

So, I came up with a little test.  Just a simple matrix to determine just how processed my food is.

1. Did I pick it, gather it, milk it, churn it or dig it out of the ground?
2. Can I identify all of the ingredients?
3. Are all of the ingredients known to be food?

If I answer “no” to any of those then I figure that I am eating processed food.

Now, since I don’t have a farm outside of Farmville.  What to do?

Well, the next step would be minimally processed.

If I were in a strange caveman Geico commercial, would the cavemen recognize the food?

Yes, that is minimally processed.  Eggs, once gathered, who knows what happens to them?  They get cleaned, I know that having grown up on a farm.  Farm fresh usually has farm poo on them.  Apples get picked, then apparently waxed, so they are shiny.  Processed. Albeit, minimally.

And so it goes.

Once you get to the point of having a food label, you are getting further along the processed highway.  Although, not all labeled food is highly processed.  Cheese has ingredients.  They should be limited to milk and enzymes.  Once you add “powder” you’ve gone over the edge.

Finally, I should  point out that neither “flavor” nor  “blue”  is a food.  Neither is “red”.  If they are listed in your food, ask yourself WHY?  Why am I eating a color?

Another factor in what I eat has been, “Do I know who prepared this?”  I’m finding I really like to know.  I discovered this after carefully watching gloved fast food workers scratch themselves, rub their noses, you know.  Now, had they not been wearing gloves, would they be more likely to wash their hands after such activities?  Survey says “yes”.  The gloves give them some sort of disconnect, gives them a sense of being protected from germs.  Yes, they won’t get snot on their hands, but the snot is on the outside of the glove.  If you don’t believe me, go watch someone wearing gloves.  You’ll see.

Of course I am not perfect.  I crave nuclear mac & cheese at times.  But the further from my last processed meal, the less I miss them.  Last month, I craved a SALAD.  Tonight I had grilled pineapple on my kosher hot dog.  Best thing ever.  I make the most amazing guac.  I had no idea green enchilada sauce could be so yum.  All of these foods I tried only recently.  And I love them.  The kids love them.  I even sneak sugar snap peas and pineapple to the neighbor boys.

Although in the spirit of full disclosure, I still drink about four cans of Coke a day.

Shut up.   Every time I read the book, the turtle wins.