Mayo in the tank

Ok, visualize this with me (it won't be hard, trust me):  You get up, feed the kids, find the backpacks and shoes (this takes an extra 15 minutes because the 9 year-old's shoes are in the back yard -- and it rained last night.  Too bad! -- get everyone out the door and on the bus on time, eat three bites of the toast you made for yourself 20 minutes ago (tasty), get dressed (avoiding the falling asleep in the shower bit), and check your to-do list for the day.  Costco run, someone's rash Rx to pick up, the chameleon needs crickets (insert your own pet & fodder here), the fridge needs to be filled with SOMETHING, and the 1st grader needs green sprinkles for his science project on cheese. Why?  Who cares.  Just get the sprinkles and avoid an un-win-able argument with someone whose logic runs to "If my Star Wars clone's head can come off, then I want to remove my head too.  NOW."  No lie.  Ask my sister Emily.

You plot out the course -- which stores in which order.  You rack your brain for anything else you need and really, really don't want to make an extra run for.  You run down the basics: milk?  Check.  Bread?  Check.  TP?  Ooo, better grab some from Costco.  Maybe 2 jumbo packs.  And the industrial-size bottle of Excedrin . . .

You get in the car.  Turn on the engine.  (Bonus points if your vehicle started.  Mine doesn't 1/4 of the time because of the wretched button lights in the roofs of minivans.  My kids turn them all on when we go anywhere.  Even in daylight.  Because pushing buttons is FUN! (And that, my friends, is a universally applicable analogy.  Feel free to poach ;D) Do they ever turn them off?  No.  Do I ever have the wherewithal to check and make sure they're all off?  No.  Result= dead battery.  Hint: the switch to turn off all the interior lights so that they CANNOT be turned on in a Toyota Sienna 2005 is just to the right of the steering wheel.  Took me 3 years to figure this out. Actually, I tell I lie.  My daughter had to show it to me.  College $$ at work. Oh. Ya.)

Anyway, back to you starting up your car.  You start it up and BINGO your gas idiot light is on.  You'll be lucky to make it to the gas station.  And you're just relishing the $4 a gallon.  Oh well, the oldest can put off college for a year, right?  You pull up to the pump.  You reach for the handle.  But what's this?  Your choices are not unleaded, expensive unleaded, and good-grief-do-they-make-it-with-24-carat-gold unleaded.  Your choices are Mayonnaise, Elmer's Glue, and Fairy Dust.  To put in the tank of your gas-powered automobile.  Good luck with that to-do list. (Seriously the list of analogies and comparisons that could be made about those three 3 items is staggering.  But this post is getting long enough.  Consider it homework . . . )

And that's really what it's all about.  What is in your tank?  YOUR tank, not your car's, I mean.  Straight up honesty here, because otherwise I'm just preaching arrogant blather: I struggle with depression.  I also have IBS and Meniere's diesease.  None of these is life-threatening, none of these is facility-admittable.  But combined, they are a world-class pain in the neck for getting on with life! I have too much to do, dang it!  Why can't my body get its act together?  Sheesh.

Here's the scoop: my depression is the same kind many, many women struggle with.  I've seen it referred to as Vegetative Depression.  Sounds like Couch Potato Disease to me, and that's more or less correct.  It's not that I am a Couch Potato, in fact, I rarely sit down all day long.  It's based on the reality that we are all genetically designed and evolved to be farmers!  By that, I mean our bodies were meant to DO, to be outside, to be moving.  But the world we live in and lives and jobs and hobbies we live now don't require it for survival the way it did for thousands and thousands of years.

My other medical issues are heavily affected by diet (possibly even created by diet, but lots of factors to consider) and commercially prepared food is about the worst for me.  I have to be very careful about what I eat.  It's a drag, I'm telling you.  And I kinda suck at Following the Rules.  This is a generally applicable statement of my personality in general :D (see World Peace in 76 Seconds, or ask my parents, my siblings, my husband, my children, or anyone who has had to work with me on a project of any kind.)

My point here, though, is that I don't have to eat healthy, get exercise, go outdoors, or get regular sleep.  Nothing about modern American life forces me to do these things.  If I don't take care of my garden, we're not going to starve.  I'm going to just drive to the grocery store.  It's a lot easier.  And the list of convenient options I have to deal with any basic survival concern goes on and on.  I might spend more time on the porcelain throne or take three naps a day, but I'm not going to die.  It's both a tremendous blessing and privilege of living in an advanced, stable country but also it is a burden and a curse.  Frankly, it probably will kill us in the end: a slow, apathetic, lethargic, sort of blurring into non-life.  But we can do something about it!

This then comes to why people are people and not animals.  We can choose to act differently than our inclinations.  My inclinations are to eat chocolate cream puffs and read all day, with variables being savoring mint brownies and knitting while watching Downton Abbey/Pride & Prejudice, or sewing while munching away my entire container of chocolate chips.  I really, really can't do this, however, because I can't.  And that's it.

I can't put mayonnaise in my tank and expect to parent 5 insane boys (upcoming post: Why you WANT the insane ones.) because:

1.  I pay the price for bad fuel in the engine because I feel rotten, have no energy, and live in a perpetual pity party.  This is just pathetic.  Really.

2.  My kids pay the price for bad fuel in my engine because I can't parent well because of #1 above.  Parenting is HARD, no matter how many kids or what kind of kids you have.  Raising humans is not like raising goldfish -- sprinkle food and forget.  Oops, floating. Flush and start over.  Ya, no. -- The most complicated computer in the world is running inside those little skulls and YOU are in charge of the software and programming.  Scared?  You should be.  I'm terrified on a regular basis.

3.  My spouse pays the price for bad fuel in my engine because I'm not bring my half to our partnership.  This is something far too many people do not understand.  They just cry and stamp their foot and say "what have you done for me lately?"  Wrong question.  What have you done for your spouse lately? Really.  I'm not kidding about that one.  What have I done today to make my partner happy?  What have I done to make this marriage work?  Get on it.

4.  YOU pay the price if I put bad fuel in my tank because I have not done my part to take care of my responsibilities: to make sure the little souls I am turning on loose on the world do not walk in to your store and rob you.  Or get drunk and run you over with a car.  Or become a criminal mastermind and steal all the computer codes to control all the atomic bombs in the world and kill Superman and take over the world with Fembots.  (Seriously. Upcoming post.  But I am working on it.  I promise. Many of you know to whom I referring.)

So the question is: what DO I put in my tank?

1. Body -- This is the easy one.  Your body is an engine.  Just like a car won't run on Elmer's Glue and Fairy Dust, your body won't run on CRAP (Carbonated drinks, Refined sugars, Artificial sweeteners, Processed foods (source: all over the internet, lots of great idea for not eating these and eating FOOD).  You need FOOD.  This means real food.  If it has a bar code, it probably doesn't qualify.  Shout out to my friend Karen Kennedy and her blog ripplfamilyfarm.blogspot.com -- great information about really understanding food and properly fueling your and your family's bodies -- hint: lowfat = not so good, unless it's naturally low-fat, like, you know, an apple.

Seriously, though.  Humans are chemically and electrically run machines.  Food that comes from nature is more or less matched to our bodies' needs.  Thousands of years kind of made it that way.  It went something like this:

Caveman:  "Me hungry.  Me see rock.  Me eat."

(Crunch, crunch, crunch.)

Caveman; "Me still hungry and lose 3 teeth. Me try banana instead."

(Munch, munch, munch.)

Caveman: "Yum."

Just so realistic, you almost feel like you were there, eh?

And thus, our (somewhat stupid and un-dentalled (I made that word up)) ancestors discovered what could and could not be eaten.  The range of what IS actually edible in our world is a bit eye-watering.  What WE think of as edible is largely culture-driven.  I am not eating grubs, no matter what fabulous proteins and vitamins they have.  This goes for anything in the "insecta" class.  A nice horse steak does also not appeal.  The French exchange student who lived with my mother's family for a year, however, was horrified that Americans eat corn on the cob.  (Pig food.)  Nonetheless, the human body is adapted to eat things that come from this planet.

If we are putting fuel into our systems that is a work of chemical gymnastics from a lab, it makes a certain kind of sense that that fuel may not work with our engines.  Pay attention to what you eat.

2.  Spirit -- THIS is the one most people ignore.  Whatever your word for your soul, your spirit, your inner self -- the part of you that is YOU, your emotions, view points, reactions, outlooks, expectations -- everything that is not the physical blood and guts of your body -- this is the part I'm talking about.

Your spirit (that's my word for everything I just defined, insert your own word if it makes more sense to you) MUST be fueled, just like your body.  Almost more importantly than your body, because this is where the desire and determination to take care of your body comes from.

What is your belief system?  Whatever it is, BELIEVE it.  DO it.  KNOW it.  What is your holy text?  Bible?  The Vedas? The Koran? Bhagavad Gita? The Torah?  Read it.  Study it.  Apply it.  Live your beliefs.  Teach it to your children.  Give them a moral code, and live that same code.  If you don't have one, don't understand yours, or don't think it's relevant, GET TO WORK.  The human mind is structured to search, to know, to understand, but to also work and live and function with purpose and direction.  We cannot function in a moral and purposeless vacuum.  We just don't.  Sadly, there is evidence all around of this.

My holy text is the bible and the Book of Mormon.  I have read all the holy books I listed above and find much good and great value in all of them.  Interestingly enough, (kudos to Mr. Bledsoe, Honors CWP 1986-1987 Columbia River HS), ALL major religions have a variant of the Golden Rule with almost the exact same wording: treat people the way you want to be treated.  Probably something to pay attention to, eh?  For ME, the whole package is found in being LDS -- a Mormon.  Being Mormon isn't easy.  We have many guidelines to follow which create a fairly structured and busy life. Some people see it as controlled and restrictive.  But I find it gives direction and purpose to my life with greater understanding of why I bother to do what I do.

When I DON'T read my scriptures daily, say prayers daily, ponder and meditate daily (even if it's only 10 minutes -- hint: in the shower is a great time for contemplation. Seriously.  You've got the sensory deprivation element with the sound of the water, you're relaxed and warm, the kids aren't there (well, mine aren't.  They're, uh, male, and uh, a bit too old to be in the shower with mom.  I think I just derailed the spiritual vibe I had going.  Oops.  Moving on . . . )), and give genuine thanks and appreciation daily, I see the difference.  I feel my engine sputtering and choking.  More, even, than if I eat cookies and drink diet coke all day. (Although this is not helpful.)

Where is your whole package? Find it and LIVE it.

This may have been more of a rant than I intended.  Truly, I have been mostly ranting at myself.  Hopefully you found something to glean :D  But after nearly 22 years of parenting -- parenting as student, as a working mother, as "single" parent (when your spouse works 110 hours a week, you are effectively a single parent.  And I didn't exaggerate those hours.  Anyone who thinks doctors have easy lives and play golf every Friday is either living in a 50s sitcom or simply uninformed.  You are now informed.  If you are living in a 50s sitcom, let me refer you to these nice men over here with a comfy white jacket with extra long sleeves.  Ugh.  Distracted again.  Back on target --) parenting girls, parenting boys, parenting kids I didn't give birth to but who are now part of my nest, parenting ADD kids, parenting perpetually angry kids, parenting all academic levels, oy this list could go on . . . after parenting under many different situations and conditions, I know this: I must take care of ME.  Not excessively, not narcissistically.  But with an eye to real health and well-being.

The point is, Parenting can and should be FUN.  Life can and should be FUN.  That doesn't mean it won't be really hard sometimes.  Kids and life will throw everything they can at you.  That's just kids and life being what they are.  BUT if you're trying to manage it all with a tank full of mayonnaise, glue, and fairy dust, it will SUCK.

Don't put mayo in your tank.  That's just dumb.  (Do you hear me, Jeny?)