My Crazy Brain: Food

It's been awhile and there's a lot going on in my brain.  I'm sitting on the couch surrounded by mounds of folded laundry.  I have a spiral bound notebook sitting next to me (old school, I know) filled with lists of ideas: parties to host (that I'll probably never get around to), meals to make, things to pack for vacation, gift ideas for the kids/niece/nephews- I carry it around the house with me so that I can write down things as soon as I think of them.  My brain has been busy lately!  But I'm thankful for the inspiration.  And, since we're closing in on an especially busy week here in our household, I also have a moment of silence, which I'm equally thankful for.  Everyone else is asleep and I'm alone with my thoughts.  And frustrations.  Which is, after all, what kindles the inspiration.

I was a bit of a worry-wart as a kid.  (I've passed this along to my son, btw, and I'm trying my best to help him fight it.)  I thought that I had outgrown it, but since the birth of my first-born, this affliction has reappeared.  The worry usually has something to do with food.  What I'm feeding him, what's in it, how it was grown, etc.  I consider it part of my maternal nature.  He's a pretty picky eater, and I've always thought that probably had something to do with my own food issues.  But since Miss C has come along, she's debunked that theory.  That girl will eat anything.  Off of the floor.  Under the couch.  Out of the grass.  I have to keep a serious eye on her.  But the good part is that she's willing to try pretty much anything I place in front of her.  Which is the same food I place in front of him.  But she eats it (and usually likes it) and he doesn't even want to try it.  I'm blaming it mostly on nature, a little on nurture.

I've been tackling the food monster head on since last January.  Randy and I have a tradition of making New Year's Resolutions.  Attainable goals.  Last year, he challenged me to think bigger.  If money was not an issue, how would we want to live our life?  And in what small, inexpensive ways could we start making those changes a reality in our lives?  One of my biggest things was the food we eat.  Organic is expensive, y'all.  So I started experimenting with meatless entrees.  Making our own bread.  Buying all natural milk, straight from the farmer.  Then Randy lost his job.  Then Randy started his own business.  Then we were living on a REALLY tight food budget.  So I cooked more meatless entrees.  I planted a garden.  I started making more things from scratch.  I loved every minute of it, and developed a passion for cooking and gardening.  {I love my husband and his boldness.  It takes a lot of courage to start a business!  I also love how he challenges me.  And I also love him for being willing to support my crazy ideas.  And I love him for eating rice and beans.  And whatever else I come up with.}

I personally think that the American food system/industry is seriously messed up.  Along with our environment.  Along with our government.  Along with our healthcare system.  And I think they're all intrinsically connected.   My children are going to suffer for the choices that I'm/we're making today.  They'll also suffer because of my lack of involvement in changing things.  More inspiration.

I'm currently trying to eliminate as much packaged food as possible.  But we like crackers and pretzels, yo.  And I don't think that the kind that this extremely picky, label reading mama buys are really that bad.  Thank you, God, for putting a Whole Foods and a Trader Joe's in Nashville!  I seriously don't want to ever live without either of them again.  This week, I've been experimenting with homemade granola bar recipes.  I'm also working on actually cooking breakfast (as opposed to opening a box of cereal or frozen waffles), and convenient ways to do that.  I have some ideas I'll be implementing soon.  I also just bought some organic seeds for our summer garden.  I'm so excited to grow some of our own food again this year!  {And just in case you're wondering, yes my kids have eaten Cheetos.  Just this past weekend.  Four each.  But they have not been to McDonald's, and I'm trying to keep that up for as long as possible.} 

Yes, I realize that these choices make my life a little more difficult.  Yes, I realize that I can't live up to these standards all the time.  I'm already wondering how we'll keep this up while vacationing this summer.  And how many school lunches this means that I'll make in the next sixteen years.  But I feel good about it.  And I hope we raise healthy children because of it.  {And keep ourselves healthy as well.  I'm now down 21 pounds, by the way!  Woop-woop!}

In the midst of the frustrations, I see glimpses of hope in my kids.  G took the first bite of my homemade granola bars today and said, "Wow, mom!  These are really good!"  And when we finished off a box of crackers today, two year old C immediately took the empty box over and deposited it into the recycling bin.  Good girl, C!