So Clean!

It’s the 4th day of my Master Cleanse and today was really easy. I wasn't really hungry at all and I didn't really have any cravings. I did my maple syrup splurge again and loved every drop. I’d love for someone to comment and tell me if this is “wrong” for some reason.

I’m over halfway through my first run of A New Earth. I listen to some parts repeatedly, hoping it will all sink in. Oh, if I could only be present all the time.

Still, I’ve been practicing and I feel like I’m getting better at staying in the now.

Okay, so this is a real conversation with my children today after my 3.25-year-old boy had his first bite of meat during his first week of camp with his sister.

Older sister: “And it was meat pepperoni, not veggie pepperoni! From a cow!”

Me: “I think it’s from a pig, but maybe it’s a cow. Maybe both. I can’t remember.”

Son: “I think it’s from a pig. They put spices up his butt and then they chopped him up and made him into flat circles and then I put him on a pizza and they put it in the microwave and I ate it!”

Me: “So, how was it?”

Son: “Kinda spicy.”

Where my little love got this unique, albeit not far off, understanding of the pepperoni manufacturing process is beyond me. I almost peed my lemon-maple-syrup-cayenne peppered self.

Here’s today’s schedule for those who wrote and said they liked reading about the crazy logistics of my life.

5-something a.m.
The brain surgeon left for work

6:00 a.m.
I get up to finish writing and submitting the morning pharma news.

6:01 a.m.
All three kids wake up (I was in bed with them), so I plop them in front of the television. My 20-month-old says, “Hi-5!” and I feel like a loser because she is already requesting specific shows. I then realize the unschoolers would think I'm a loser because she doesn't already know how to operate the remote.

6:30 a.m.
Feel guilty and make breakfast. Also feel weak, so I down a glass of Master Cleanse concoction.

7:00 a.m.
Nanny arrives early on Wednesdays. Shut “office” door and focus on the news.

8:00 a.m.
Finish news. Head in to shower. Decide there’s no time if I want to play with the little ones for a bit, so skip it (pee-ew). Get oldest ready for soccer camp. It’s Wacky Wednesday and we planned her whole backwards outfit, kooky ponytails and face painting, but now she just wants to dress in soccer gear. Now where did I put the dirty uniforms?

8:30 a.m.
Kiss babies goodbye, which makes them scream hysterically. Head back in to lift their spirits and to remind them to wave from the balcony. For my boy, this requires me saying, “Whatever you do, don’t let Hulk wave to me from the balcony. I’ll be scared all day!” Smiling, my children run with Carmen and the Incredible Hulk to the balcony and all is well.

9:05 a.m.
Late to soccer camp again! At least their still doing the “hello” song this time. Run my camper in and then try to find some parking in Godforsaken Beverly Hills so I can get some work done.

9:21 a.m.
I park across the street in the tennis club parking structure. I know the exact time because I was watching my parking ticket like a hawk. Work in my car for 1 hour and 53 minutes (with a pee break, thank you MC), because they only have free parking for an hour and I’m cheap. And this is why I bought a car with AC plugs.

11:30 a.m.
Park next to the soccer field and watch my dear daughter play. The next half hour is crucial, because I’ve got to pick her up at 12, conduct a phone interview at 12 and avoid a parking ticket in the 1-hour zone. Who says motherhood doesn’t involve strategic planning? I’m frequently in two places at once.

11:56 a.m.
A space opens up ahead of me on the curb, so I move into it, just in case that cop I saw already marked me.

11:58 a.m.
Run to get my daughter, engaging in the barest of chitchat with the coach and another mom. “Thanks, bye!” Cross the park to community center where I can conduct interview while my laptop stays plugged into an outlet and watch my daughter play on the monkey bars at the same time.

12:04 p.m.
All set up and ready to go, but the doctor I’m interviewing for a deadline today does not answer. Decide to work on some how-to articles I’ve been assigned and try him again in a few minutes. Get an email that my ghostwriting book project that has been on hold is back in action and I have to get it written NOW! Um, okay. Peek at FaceBook and update my status.

12:30 p.m.
Give up and call doctor’s colleague while sudden burst of random children begin to shout incessantly in the community center. Can I mute and leave a message at the same time? I’ve got about 25 minutes until I have to hit the car. Just before I hit the 1-hour-parking deadline, I give up and email my interview questions to both of the review authors I’m interviewing, grab my daughter, model a bad jaywalking habit, and strap her into her 5-point-harness booster seat, even though my friends make fun of me.

12:45 p.m.
Home for lunch with the kids. Nurse the baby. Change my daughter out of her soccer clothes. My son wants to play with his friend a bit longer, so we decide to go to their afternoon camp activity late. We hang out and relax a bit. Nanny goes home.

2:30 p.m.
Take the older kids to their other summer camp, where said carnivorous pizza incident occurred. My little boy looks tired and so I contemplate taking him home for a nap, but he says he wants to stay. It’s his only official activity this summer and first real camp. Still, I feel like I barely saw him yet today. This must be what it's like for school parents.

3:00 p.m.
Home and the baby naps! Woohoo! This only happens like once a week and I contemplate watching some mindless drivel, but have piles of work to do so I buckle down.

4:45 p.m.
Poor baby! I have to wake her up to go get the other two from camp. She’s not happy. I nurse her while walking to the car, which involves two flights of stairs. I live in a liberal, predominantly gay neighborhood, so no one notices the baby stuck to my boob. By the time I get to the minivan, she’s happy to hop in her seat.

5:00 p.m.
Pick up kids. On time, because its 10 bucks if I'm late (is that per kid?). Play at park for a half-hour because I’m in a meter and that’s how much change I put in (kinda on purpose due to park burnout).

5:45 p.m.
Make dinner. Feed overtired, cranky kids and clean up the kitchen and livingroom while they eat (plug for FlyLady!). Gawk at them anyway because with summer camp, I feel like I barely see them!

6:15 p.m.
Hooray! The brain surgeon is home early tonight. We tag team the baths and showers. Clean the bathrooms while the kids are in there (another FlyLady plug). The brain surgeon fends for himself for dinner, as he does on most nights. I feel moderately guilty about this, but with his unpredictable schedule and absolute hatred of leftovers, I’m not sure I should, but I do.

7:00 p.m.
Brush kids’ teeth and the five of us hop into bed for a very chaotic and cuddly story time while the brain surgeon turns totally innocuous storybook lines into come-hither innuendos. We flirt while I read the Disney Princess Look and Find and the Kit Kittredge movie book, which we enter into their library log (prizes for doing what we do already? That rocks!). Then I read 12 chapters of Captain Underpants before I decided I can no longer take my children’s overtired insanity. The older two were out in less than 10 minutes, but the baby was on crack or something. She pulled her sleeping brother’s hair at one point and dropped a sippy cup on her sister’s nose at another. Her sister burst into tears and passes back out.

8:58 p.m.
Interrupt brain surgeon’s channel surfing and have him finish putting the baby to sleep.

9:00 p.m.
Enjoy a tablespoon of maple syrup (pathetic, isn’t it?) and then get back to writing how-tos and reviewing info for the book I’m ghostwriting.

11:00 p.m.
Blog! Check my FaceBook page and chat with my long lost friend (Cheers to you!).

11:45 p.m.
Whoops. A long blog. Finish it and hit the hay.

Hey, that’s living! It's a beautiful life!

Toodles!