So I started a dietary cleanse today. It is three weeks long, has me drinking two of my three meals and peeing every hour. Supposedly the first week is hell, which I should know more about tomorrow. Being an adult is the shits, I swear.
Thank God there is no medical reason to cleanse my soul. Then the world would really be in trouble. I suppose that’s what you Catholics call pennance or some shit like that. The rest of us cleanse our bodies instead.In case you are curious, I will avoid the colonic. No one need to feel that clean, in my opinion.
Perhaps the less than 12 hours my body has been undergoing a cleanse, has also started to make me emotional, in a sentimental sort of way, not a digestional one. I was looking at my daughter today and wished there was some way I could capture how she is right now, so I could show it to her later, or so that I could revisit it when I am sad.
This may go back to the whole too-smart-to-be-happy thing, but every day that passes I realize is the last day Sofia will be that way. She will never be three years, five months and six days again, and it is so tragically sad. Worse than dying kittens or three-legged dogs, or America’s Next Top Model.
I have felt this way so many times watching her grow up, and probably like many of you with your kids I’ve spent at least the first year of her life chronicling every facial expression and quirky body position and silly moment. Still, she grows up and moves on, forcing me to do the same.
I guess I have to keep learning to appreciate the moments in the moment. Or, stop feeding her so much.