Okay, I'm not really anorexic. Promise. I just forget to eat. One of the things about having two kids that I expected was being ridiculously busy. Well, these days I'm so busy that I completely forget to give myself food. The mornings from this past week went like this:
6:45am: Shower and get dressed.
7am: Johnny's up. Put on some YouTube while I finish putting on deodorant and brush my teeth.
7:15am: Make Johnny's breakfast while the coffee perks and my English muffin toasts.
7:20am: Bring Johnny's breakfast to the playroom. Hang out for awhile playing.
7:30am: Bring Hank downstairs and plop him in the exersaucer while I put away dishes from the dishwasher, get a load of laundry started and clean up the kitchen counter.
7:45am: Remember English muffin in the kitchen. Return to kitchen to get English muffin, but Hank is crying because he's ready for breakfast.
7:50am: Pick up Hank and get his breakfast ready.
7:55am: Return to play room to hang out and read stories with Johnny while I feed Hank in the Bumbo.
8:15am: Wipe Hank up and take Johnny's plate downstairs to load up with more food. Remember English muffins. Get muffin out of toaster and put it on a plate. Johnny calls downstairs for more milk.
8:25am: Johnny's milk has been refilled, the washed laundry has been put into the dryer and I need to put more food on Johnny's plate to take it upstairs.
8:40am: Try to get Johnny into a new diaper and clothes for the day.
8:50am: Still trying.
9am: Success! Johnny is in a new diaper and clean clothes, but I can't find his shoes.
9:15am: Found Johnny's shoes under the bed and put them on his feet. Managed to bribe him into the car with my iPhone.
9:20am: Go back in and get Hank from wherever I left him and grab my (now cold) coffee to bring in the car.
9:30am: On our way to our 9:30am playdate drinking my cold coffee.
10:15am: Wonder why I'm shaking so badly and realize that my English muffin is still on the counter, uneaten.
Rest of day: Repeat for every meal.
Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother of two (even more so than being a mom of one) and I definitely love being smaller than my pre-pregnancy size, but this whole not eating thing? It's unhealthy. And stupid. What a stupid thing to complain about.