So, when I first started this blog it was about changing the eating habits of my kids. I am happy to report (a full year later) that our eating habits – for the most part – have done almost a 180. Well, the three-year old and the six year-old would still probably be pretty happy to eat food out of a box or something covered in cheese dust (our post-soccer game ritual includes a treat from RaceTrac where Bennett proceeds to find the weirdest colored thing he can), but the five older kids just don’t like the processed stuff any more. Almost at all. So, as long as I keep to the program, I feel like I am setting them up for a lifetime of healthy eating.
You know, within reason of course. We can’t all be healthy all the time.
But the title of this post refers to other things besides our eating habits. If I had a nickel for every time someone said to me, “I just don’t know how you do it …,” I would be, well, wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. And if I were wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t worry so much about all the changes we are going through.
No, I probably would still worry.
Change is good.
Change is inevitable.
Change is what keeps us reaching and growing and striving for that next goal. Right?
This is what I keep telling myself because … my family is changing.
Lucy leaves for college in less than one year, Abby is moving up in the swimming world, Mollie wants to move up, Emma isn’t swimming at all, Lizzie and Bennett are playing soccer, and Mary is just, well … growing up. My schedule is changing, my priorities are changing and I am going day to day just trying to make it all work. I am, in any given day, hanging on for dear life to the pendulum that swings from one emotion to the other. At times the emotion at the realization that this is the last year my family will be together as a unit sends me into a tailspin. At others, the excitement and anticipation of (hopefully) college acceptance coming in the mail makes me happier than a bridesmaid at a midnight showing of Magic Mike.
Watching my children succeed in school and extra curriculars (is that a word?) brings such joy because I know they are setting themselves up for the best possible outcome, but dealing with the logistics of this success and extra curricular things brings me so low that I feel like a squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Still full of good things, but not appealing at all with all the good stuff squishing out the sides making everything sticky and gross.
You just want to chuck it all in the trash and start over.
Speaking of sandwiches, I have a dear friend Candice. She is dealing with her own Changes for Seven and is sandwiched between her four children, her husband, her Alzheimer’s diagnosed mother, and her own need to break out of the rutted track in which the wheels of her life spin. Between her life and mine, we cover some pretty crazy stuff. Candice is going to contribute her own Changes for Seven on a regular basis. I am REALLY excited about this because it means we can update more frequently, writing about whatever happens. There are bound to be tons of laughs and no doubt a few tears along the way.
Today, for instance. I have the usual conundrum of what to do with plain, boneless, skinless chicken breasts. I’m not sure how I’m going to cook them, much less get it all prepared in time for three kids and husband to go to soccer, and get myself and two other kids ready for swim. And then there is the, “chicken again?” wail.
I think I will rely on the old standby of simple is best. Parmesan crusted chicken (fish for Lucy and Mollie), angel hair pasta and freshly steamed vegetables.
As I write this, I am sitting at the dentist with Lucy. They were able to squeeze her in on her lunch hour (thirty minutes) so that she didn’t miss too much AP Econ. Remember that pendulum I was writing about before ? I have two words that just sent me swinging in the other direction: