1m2aSandbox

We try to eat healthy in our house. We definitely don’t eat enough vegetables, but we’re working on it. And the girls understand that I’m happy to let them have a cookie – as long as it’s one we’ve made ourselves. We’re working on understanding that homemade junk food is way better than store-bought junk food (and I use the word “food” loosely in that case).

Sometimes it’s hard; sometimes I think I’m lecturing waaaay too much, or turning my kids into those weird children who will sneak out of the house on a Friday night just to have a Twinkie. And then chew a piece of gum when they come home to disguise their breath.

I worry about finding that balance between not making food SUCH a big deal – it’s just what we use for fuel, no more, no less – and making sure they understand the importance of what we put in our bodies. I worry that they’ll fear food, and become paralyzed in a 7-11 when they’re 16 years old and off with friends. I worry they’ll develop a Dorito habit and hide the bags as they come in the house.

In short, I think about this a lot.

Seriously? Who invented Daylight Savings Time, anyway?

I remember when we were first confronted with the whole DST “thing”, when our firstborn was a toddler. School wasn’t an issue, no real schedule to have to follow, but I remember that feeling of panic when I thought about Maddie being up one. More. Hour. Every night. Even though the clock said “TEN” her body would still be thinking “NINE”, and do you what that would mean?

She’d be awake. And unhappy. And wanting Mommy.

And Mommy? Would just be wanting that one PRECIOUS hour of non-kid time that had been stolen from her every evening.