Now I know what drugs feel like.
Maybe. At least I think I do. The feel-good part. Not the shaky-and-hallucinating part. I wouldn’t know. But I’m gandering a guess.
Y’all. I bought a juicer. And it is fabulous. Not the sarcastic fabulous. The fabulous-fabulous.
About the fourth consecutive pajama day of Christmas break, I resolved to have more energy to endure our crazy, busy, ridiculous life. Between school carpools, dance classes, basketball practices, gymnastics classes, after-school musical rehearsals, Boy Scout meetings, spelling words, and chores – not to mention laundry, dishes, volunteering, writing, and the endless endless endless cleaning – I could use a little boost.
Disclaimer (because I know Michael will correct me): Boy Scouts is not my responsibility. I have absolutely no connection with Nathan’s Tiger Cub troop or pack or den or whatever it’s called. I wouldn’t know. I purposefully pitched that ball into Michael’s court and slapped the dust from my hands, so it is 100% his deal. I’m not even on the email list. On purpose. I told the lady – whatever her name is – not to add me. Michael tells me when the meetings are, and I note them on my calendar, but there ends the extent of my involvement for two reasons:
- I’m already juggling too many balls.
- Michael needs to bond with Nathan because they drive each other bananas. So I coerced Michael into signing up suggested Tiger Cubs as an extracurricular activity for our very non-athletic, non-coordinated, space cadet last born, then I stepped away.
And Michael still loves me. Tiger Cubs, notsomuch.
But even with one less ball in the air, I still need the stamina of a cheetah or marathon runner or three year old. Because falling asleep in the car line is so not cool.
Now that we’ve established the theme for 2012 (“Let there be light!”), let us also vow to exercise more and eat better. Not less, but better. Maybe a little less. And sleep. More sleep is always good. Because a rested and healthy mama is a happy mama, and a happy mama means a happy family. And an unhappy, unrested, unfit mama sends everyone running for cover.
My sweet mother-in-law spent Thanksgiving with us this year, along with my favorite aunt. The three of us had a conversation one morning that eventually rolled around to juicers and the benefits of juicing and how to juice and what to juice. I was the only one at the table without a juicer. I decided I wanted a juicer. I had to have a juicer.
One month later, on Christmas morning, my mother-in-law presented me with the most beautiful Visa gift card I’ve ever seen, along with a note telling me to go pick out a juicer.
I love her.
I couldn’t get to Amazon fast enough. I’d already found a juicer in the midst of my online Christmas shopping and added it to my wish list. Click, click, click, confirm. Hallelujah.
Thanks to the glory and beauty that is Amazon, my new juicer magically arrived on my doorstep the next week. It is shiny. It is pretty. It is easily assembled.
Mm-kay. Now what? I had no clue where to start.
God bless the Google. I entered “juicer recipes” and found a list of seventeen gajillion websites with ideas on what to put in your juicer. I made some notes, but since we didn’t have much on hand, we threw in some apples, carrots, celery, spinach, and a banana.
It looked like baby poo.
We poured it into five itty bitty glasses, and took a sip. No one spit it out. It was actually quite tasty. Success.
The next day, I headed to Central Market for a vegetable buying spree. Carrots, beet root, ginger, spinach, apples, cucumber, red bell pepper – though they were out of kale. Kale will come next week.
Fast forward to Monday morning. Cold, dreary, rainy, nasty, I-want-to-stay-in-my-bed-all-day Monday morning. I hate Monday mornings. I dragged my weary bones out of bed, opened my eyes enough to find the creamer for my coffee, drove the kids to school in my pajamas, and crawled back in bed. I had volunteered to help at Meghan’s school later that morning – otherwise I would have pulled the blankets over my head and hibernated until I had to pick up the kids. Possibly in my pajamas. It was that kind of day.
Instead, I dragged my weary bones out of bed – again. I decided to make some juice.
One glassful later, I was flying. I was rockin’. I was rollin’. I was unstoppable.
I felt great.
I buzzed up to that middle school and ushered those 7th grade boys into the vision & hearing screening room with a smile on my face. I zoomed back home with the radio blaring and my fingers tapping to the beat on my turn signal handle. I zipped through the house, changing laundry, washing dishes, wiping countertops. I sat down to soak in a little Truth, allowing myself to be flooded with light. Then I was off again for the carline – not in my pajamas – and an afternoon full of spelling words, chores, basketball practice, musical rehearsal, gymnastics, homework – and somewhere in there, I managed to get dinner on the table. Kids bathed and brushed and prayed and tucked. And I fell into bed, sleeping harder than I had in ages.
Who knew what a little nutrition could do? It makes sense, really. All those God-given fruits of the earth were created not only for our nourishment, but our enjoyment. When we live as we were created and designed to live, we are better equipped to fulfill our purpose.
Not that carrots and spinach will solve all of our issues. We still have stuff, and that stuff will eat us alive if we allow it. But take care of yourself, friend. Treat yourself kindly and gently. Do something good for your body and your mind today. Find what nourishes you, what refreshes you, what energizes you. And do it.
It’s gonna be a great year.