Parental Sacrifice - or not

Please excuse the lack of punctuation (run-ons  and double spacing - sorry but I am old and I just can't help it)...
The private,  inner,  underside that lurks in the mind of a mother... Thoughts  that shouldn't be thought much less uttered aloud... or on paper... or in cyberspace for that matter... either because they are very bad or just a pure waste of time.

There is a reason why I am willing to let my kids eat something that has recently expired or might be a little off rather than throwing myself on the sword, so to speak and eating it first.  Behind most seemingly illogical and scatterbrained maneuvers on my part (which are many) there are several carefully speculated calculations (although my husband doesn't believe this to be true).   I digress...     The reason is this:  First of all,  the probability of the food actually harming someone is a fraction of 1% and the kids don't know that  the food is expired and so they will eat it happily and not get the willies like I would even though I know intellectually that it won't hurt me. Probably.  Second,  if they get cheated by statistics and get some awful food poisoning and are in bed puking for a day at least they will have a healthy parent available to nurture them,  whereas if I am the one afflicted then the whole shebang shuts down, even though a part of me would welcome the bedrest (albeit preferably not that kind of bedrest).   Third,  my mother used to just cut or scoop the mold off something and hand it to us,  ignoring our cries of "it's moldy,  we're going to die" as if we had taken leave of our senses.   I assume most people don't way over think things like I do, and I am certain my mother did not either.

At any rate, this morning I did take the first bite of  the pink pancake that was made (without my knowledge) with the frozen raspberries that I have a vague memory of buying several years ago in an attempt to get more fruit into my toddlers by making some delicious concoction probably topped with whipped cream and the open container of maple syrup that someone took out of the back of their fridge and gave to me when they were moving last July  and that a kid  had rescued from the back of our fridge this morning  to put on the pancakes and so I know not the origin or age of the product - not out of motherly sacrifice,  but because my blood sugar rendered me desperate for sustenance.

Going to the Gym (or anywhere) ADHD style

A long post about nothing...
I know that "going to the gym" might be simple to some people, but this is how someone with ADHD (minus the H) "goes to the gym": If I had the H I wouldn't need to go to the gym...

You look up from your book and decide that yes, today will be a day you go to the gym and that you have just enough time to go if you stop reading now and get out the door. So you read a few more pages and finish your coffee and say that if you hurry you can get there before your blood sugar renders you completely useless.
First you search for your (barely effective) sports bra that you must have bought ten years ago and then you try to locate two socks - color is of no consequence since finding two of anything is considered a miracle. Then you look and look and turn the house upside down for your sweat shorts that you bought specifically for the gym. You mutter and then graduate to panicky whining while you dig around in the pile of laundry on the couch but the things are gone. Just gone. So after interrogating everyone in the house you find your Khaki shorts and whine to yourself "I can't wear KHAKI's to the the GYM!!! so you give up for a while hoping that if you stop looking the other shorts will turn up and you go looking for a shirt. You find a perfect one a few layers down in your hamper and though it is wrinkled you put it on saying that who cares, you are only going to the gym. Then you look in the mirror and say to your reflection "so you won't wear khaki's to the gym but you are willing to wear something -unashamedly - that totally looks like you grabbed it out of the hamper???" So you look for the spray bottle that you bought to spray on wrinkles because you never, EVER iron anything and never intend to either and when you can't find it you accuse your boys of destroying yet ANOTHER spray bottle and demand an explanation as to why a spray bottle never lasts more than five minutes in your house. You of course are standing in your undies in a wrinkled shirt having a hissy fit so you remember that "oh, yeah, I was looking for my shorts" so you go upstairs and look under a few piles of clothing and finally locate them. You find some headphones that work after rejecting three pairs of broken ones and find that your phone has just enough battery after you snatch it out of your boy's grubby little hands. Actually, you don't snatch it, you wait tapping your foot while he finishes the game and all the while you go on and on about how you have told him a million times before not to use up the phone battery and can't you just have ONE thing that is yours and that other people don't have to take from you..... then your blood sugar plummets and you realize that you waited too long and so you grab a handful of cashews which make you thirsty which reminds you that you forgot to get a water bottle and where are all the parts to the bottle that you just bought the other day so you finally get it assembled and run out the door and get into your car but you forgot the keys so you go back in and when you do you grab some more cashews but forget the keys so you get back in the car and swear and get out and go after the keys and when you get in the house you see the bag which holds your sneakers and you are so glad because last time you forgot them and had to come ALL the way back and you were pissed. So now you are ready to go and the whole way you calculate how you are going to fit your whole workout into half the time you had planned and you wonder if you should just say to hell with it all and go out to breakfast instead... Oh - a yard sale!

Another post about going to the gym

A long post about nothing... I know that "going to the gym" might be simple to some people, but this is how someone with ADHD (minus the H) "goes to the gym": If I had the H I wouldn't need to go to the gym... You look up from your book and decide that yes, today will be a day you go to the gym and that you have just enough time to go if you stop reading now and get out the door. So you read a few more pages and finish your coffee and say that if you hurry you can get there before your blood sugar renders you completely useless. First you search for your (barely effective) sports bra that you must have bought ten years ago and then you try to locate two socks - color is of no consequence since finding two of anything is considered a miracle. Then you look and look and turn the house upside down for your sweat shorts that you bought specifically for the gym. You mutter and then graduate to panicky whining while you dig around in the pile of laundry on the couch but the things are gone. Just gone. So after interrogating everyone in the house you find your Khaki shorts and whine to yourself "I can't wear KHAKI's to the the GYM!!! so you give up for a while hoping that if you stop looking the other shorts will turn up and you go looking for a shirt. You find a perfect one a few layers down in your hamper and though it is wrinkled you put it on saying that who cares, you are only going to the gym. Then you look in the mirror and say to your reflection "so you won't wear khaki's to the gym but you are willing to wear something -unashamedly - that totally looks like you grabbed it out of the hamper???" So you look for the spray bottle that you bought to spray on wrinkles because you never, EVER iron anything and never intend to either and when you can't find it you accuse your boys of destroying yet ANOTHER spray bottle and demand an explanation as to why a spray bottle never lasts more than five minutes in your house. You of course are standing in your undies in a wrinkled shirt having a hissy fit so you remember that "oh, yeah, I was looking for my shorts" so you go upstairs and look under a few piles of clothing and finally locate them. You find some headphones that work after rejecting three pairs of broken ones and find that your phone has just enough battery after you snatch it out of your boy's grubby little hands. Actually, you don't snatch it, you wait tapping your foot while he finishes the game and all the while you go on and on about how you have told him a million times before not to use up the phone battery and can't you just have ONE thing that is yours and that other people don't have to take from you..... then your blood sugar plummets and you realize that you waited too long and so you grab a handful of cashews which make you thirsty which reminds you that you forgot to get a water bottle and where are all the parts to the bottle that you just bought the other day so you finally get it assembled and run out the door and get into your car but you forgot the keys so you go back in and when you do you grab some more cashews but forget the keys so you get back in the car and swear and get out and go after the keys and when you get in the house you see the bag which holds your sneakers and you are so glad because last time you forgot them and had to come ALL the way back and you were pissed. So now you are ready to go and the whole way you calculate how you are going to fit your whole workout into half the time you had planned and you wonder if you should just say to hell with it all and go out to breakfast instead... Oh - a yard sale!