So far, so good. I woke up at 7:30 and made enough waffles to freeze, remembering to add the protein powder this time. Usually, the script in my head goes something like: “your kids don’t get enough protein. They will be scrawny and cast out. Why do you choose to live in this neighborhood, amongst the muscular, tanned, and well-fed? Go fix the yard. Oh, wait, you can’t. It’s too fucked and your neighbors will never accept you. These are not normal thoughts, you know. No one else thinks like this. You are too weird to be a mother. Too neurotic. Everyone in your life is doomed and there’s no way to change this.”
Today, four days in, I’m able to say, “your youngest kid doesn’t get enough protein. Let’s try this powder. You are a woman who tends toward negativity and all-or nothing thinking. Good job recognizing that. Let’s go get some sun and fresh air and movement by filling in a few of those holes the dog dug.”
Could this change of script really just be a difference in avoiding certain poisonous chemicals for a few days? If so, sign me the hell up forever.
