food...food...food

Poor blog. How I've neglected you.

Lately I feel like I am living, breathing, dreaming FOOD. We've been making some food changes that make me question my sanity. We've been cutting out ALL processed foods (and not just what I used to consider "processed" when I used to say we ate very little processed foods, but all actual processed foods...). Which means I am either in the kitchen or thinking about and planning what I will next make in the kitchen for roughly 16 hours every day... Some of my experiences and recipes will surely make an appearance in the blog in the future, as I try to make sense of what I'm doing and what works and what doesn't...

When I'm not doing kitchen-prep stuff, I feel completely drained. I feel sapped of all energy and motivation to do anything except sit around and feel tired. Not really sure what's going on, but I'm having a hard time of it.

Anyway...it's Friday today and I need to get my house clean, laundry done, food-related stuff planned and started (need to pick up eggs today and start soaking flour for making bread for the weekend), but all I really want to do on this cold grey day is cuddle up on the couch with a book while my kids sit with me watching "Peter Pan" (this may or may not be what is happening currently, minus the book, plus the computer...).

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aging

I'm afraid.

I think my dad has Parkinson's Disease.

PD killed his mother at age 95 and his brother at age 71. My Dad is 71.

When I look at pictures from just one year ago my heart breaks at how quickly his health has deteriorated. I get terrified that each time I see him will be the last. I feel panicky. I can't think about my proud, refined father and the humility and embarrassment he will feel as he loses control. I can't think about how it will be when he no longer recognizes me or my children. I can't think about how it will be for my kids to lose their grandpa. I can't stand to think about living in a world that doesn't have my Daddy.

I'm afraid.

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moments

My Pixie fell asleep nursing in my lap today. This doesn't happen very often anymore. I miss holding my sleeping little ones. I've been so busy being frustrated by how hard being a parent can be that I haven't noticed how quickly they are changing. I haven't been enjoying these sweet babies and savoring each tender memory, and that makes my heart hurt so much. How is it that my Squeak is already almost too big to hold, and what will I do when Pixie gets there, too, when my arms will be empty? How (and why) have I let so many moments slip through my fingers?

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