A change on the horizon

Parenting is not for the faint of heart.  The amount of small decisions that I make everyday regarding my children seem to have monumental emotional consequences.  Maybe it is because they are children, maybe because they are all girls, or maybe it is because children of any age are not always open to change, but the mere suggestion of a change in our diet was met with disgust, anger and tears. Granted, this was not a small decision - this was rocking their whole world!
I used to believe that life in moderation was enough to keep us all healthy.  A bit of food, a bit of rest, a bit of exercise, a bit of chocolate.....  I have always considered myself pretty healthy, not a health nut mind you, but smart about what I should be eating and not. This is how I was raising my family.
Enter the three capital letters that changed everything.  ADD.  We may (or not) have a child with ADD.  She is balancing precariously on the diagnostic fence post.   So at the mere mention, I turn to Google.  I read, digest, and spit out all information I can find.  I only want the best for my child, of course, but cannot commit myself to the medication route without trying a more holistic approach.
So here we are.  Without detailing exactly why we are making some changes except to say "for health reasons", I told the girls we would be eating some different foods.
"No pizza, mom?"  "No cookies, or birthday cakes?"  "What about other peoples' houses - can we eat real food there?" "I don't LIKE rice cakes, mom"

Suffice to say, this won't be easy.  I think I will have to win them over with some good tasting, seemingly "regular" food.

When spinning many plates... one is sure to fall

At the county fair, I remember seeing a man spinning five plates each balanced on a stick.  He worked and worked giving each a revolution or two, always in time to keep them upright and balanced.  It was a marvel.  Even though he looked out at the crown and smiled, he always knew which plate was on the verge of falling, and just how much of a spin to give it.  I consider myself a plate spinner.  My plates are my husband, my family, my job, my creative output and my sense of self.  Five plates, all spinning at once.  Each needing constant observation and tweaking. Unlike the man at the fair, almost always one of my plates hits the floor.

So this is the beginning of my chronicle.  The musings of an imperfect life juggler, and how I hope to pick up the pieces of the things I let slip.