Live Real. Eat Real.

Reunited, And It Feels So Good…

Jen of Sprite’s Keeper has brought back The Spin Cycle!  Can you give me a halleluiah?

C’mon, y’all – repeat after me:  “Halleluiah!”  After a six month hiatus, this is truly a momentous occasion, and I could not be more thrilled.

Then again, the subject matter is “reunions” and I had to think about what to write about.  Hmmm…

I could write about how my 30 year high school reunion is this summer, but since I haven’t heard anything about it…nope.

I considered writing about being reunited with my health (I’ve started losing weight again – yay!) – feeling crappy used to be the norm, and days of well-being were few and far between; now the opposite is true.  However, since the last day or two have been “crappy” days…nope (add FD&C Yellow #5 to the ever-growing list of “Things That Make Jan Feel Like Shit”, along with MSG, aspartame, gluten and casein from cow’s milk).

I thought about talking about having all of the kids up for a week this summer, sort of a mini family reunion, but since we haven’t quite worked out the details…nope.

I thought about squealing over the fact that we’ll be reunited with a certain adorable grandson over the Memorial Day weekend, but since you’ll see more pictures of that than you probably care to next week…nope.

So I’ll talk about reuniting The Young One with his lunch.

While long-time readers are familiar with my immediate family, I’m sure most of my newer readers (and there are quite a few of you) are blissfully in the dark.  You’ve seen me mention my husband, Beloved, quite often (and seen his comments, under the “Be” moniker) as well as The Young One, my 16-year-old son.  However, there are four other adult children in this mix – Oldest Son (28), Darling Daughter (24), Jolly (22, and mother of that adorable grandson) and Miss J (19), all of whom we are grateful live on their own, scattered over three states (Texas, Nevada and Ohio).  Since The Young One is the only chick left in the nest, I’m afraid he gets most of the Blog Notoriety.  He’s a pretty good sport about it.

He’s also the one kid that has been most affected by our change in diet.  He’s been a good sport about that, too, since there are no longer sodas, cookies, chips, candy, cereal, Pop Tarts, Hostess cupcakes, Twinkies, et al in our home.  Okay, there were rarely Hostess cupcakes or Twinkies here in the first place,  but that’s beside the point.  Junk took a hike, and the poor kid has been reduced to cheese sticks and (natural) peanut butter (no soy or HFCS) toast for after school snacks.

He also has ceased to buy his lunch at school, which was no hardship on him since most school cafeteria food is atrocious and he’s been horribly spoiled at home.  He also does not make his lunch – we’ve tried that route, and when lunch was left up to him he’d slap a single shred of ham between two slices of bread and call it good (if he feels ambitious, he’ll throw a cheese stick into the mix).  So I get up at a perfectly ridiculous hour every morning and make sure he has breakfast and make his lunch, which usually consists of a sandwich on that soy-and-HFCS-free bread and includes minimally processed, nitrate-free lunch meat and cheese – raw milk and grass fed, if I can get it – a piece of fruit (usually an apple, banana or some grapes), a cheese stick, some baby carrots or celery stuffed with peanut butter and, lately, a handful of dry-roasted cashews.  Once in awhile, he’ll take a leftover burger or I’ll make his sandwich with leftover roast, if we have it.  Once in a couple of blue moons I’ll make popcorn and put it in there as a treat, but not very often because if Mom makes popcorn, Mom eats popcorn and we’re simply not having any of that.

Anyhoo – all in all, it’s a pretty good lunch, especially for someone as picky as this kid.  Nutritious and filling.

When he remembers to take it with him.

The lady who mans (womans?) the desk just inside the high school entrance, welcoming visitors and directing hapless parents, recognizes me on the spot.  I don’t even have to tell her who the lunch goes to anymore.  Oh, once in awhile I’ll throw her a curve ball and hand her a calculator, or folder, or a permission form, or homework assignment that the dog most decidedly did not eat, but the vast majority of the time it’s that brown paper bag.

Yesterday, however, I never made it to the lady at the desk at all, because whom should I spy, wandering aimlessly around the foyer and clutching a wrinkled, soiled, slightly odoriferous and somewhat larger bag, but the fruit of my loins.  I walked over to him and held out the bag I was carrying.

“Forget something?” I asked.

“Oh…yeah.  Thanks, Mom.”

“Young One, what are you doing out here?”

“Taking my gym clothes back to my locker.”

“Why are you taking your gym clothes back to your locker?”

“Because I don’t have gym today.”

“Why don’t you have gym today?”

“Because they’re doing some senior testing thing in they gym this morning.”

Now, granted, he has gym first period and the kid is never fully awake and functioning until at least 10:00 a.m. (why they start school at 7:25 a.m. is beyond me), but I can guarantee you the P.E. Powers That Be reminded him there would be no gym Monday morning every day last week.  I just sighed, handed him his lunch and pointed him in the general direction of his locker.

I will be ever so relieved when he leaves the teen years behind and reunites with his brain.





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