For breakfast I had cereal with milk. For lunch, I had an all-fruit smoothie. In between I snacked on strawberry yougurt, a handful of LIFE cereal here and there, a glass of juice, a handful of popcorn, a tasty treat with my daugther as she celebrates having gone potty. I did have a redeeming dinner of chicken pot pie, and I even ate all my vegetables. Then, just for the fun of it, I thawed some cookie dough and did some baking. Now I can tell that this is not exactly a well-rounded (or should I say well-squared) diet, and my digestive system is not exactly rejoicing. And I know this is not the way to shed the baby pounds, which I've professed as an important goal. And for the record, I don't eat like this every day. But here's what I want to know: What is it about depression that makes it seem like too much work to cook or eat right? Or get dressed, for that matter? I knowingly missed lunch and sat there for over an hour listening to my growling stomach...willing myself not to eat? I don't understand.
Sometimes I'm Supermom but most of the time I'm just Mom. My kids think I'm the bomb anyway--We laugh together and understand each other. They trust me to tell them truthfully how the world works. They want to impress me and show me their tricks.
Even though the floors may be dirty and the laundry usually comes out of a basket instead of a dresser, I'm a super hero to my kids. And that's all that really matters.