Cha...cha...chia later! (but probably not)

It was the end of days. Well...the end of school days and I was, unsurprisingly, throwing myself, without shame, against the Pepsi machine. Clutching my ice cold soda victoriously, I pivoted to return, re-energized, to my classroom full of spirited students. However, before I could leave the calm sanctuary of the faculty room, a quiet voice asked, with some concern, "Have you already taken the bi-plane flight that involved weight restrictions?" I spun my Pepsi like a pistol and faced my opponent. "Not yet, Ash-ley," I sneered, "but thanks for reminding me." I then dove across the table at her, seeking to choke the very life from her slender, little body perfectly suited for a bi-plane ride. It took two paraprofessionals, an occupational therapist, and the passing resource officer to pull me away from her. Tensions tend to run high this time of year. 

That doesn't mean that I haven't been trying. I have actually made some pretty intense lifestyle choices. For example, approximately three months ago, I made the startling decision to buy some chia seeds. Obviously, my only exposure to this product prior to my unexpected purchase was the snappy little jingle: "Cha-cha-cha-chia!" accompanied by my husband's adamant refusal to let me acquire each year's fun version as a Christmas present for that special hard-to-buy-for person in our lives. "That's because the special hard-to-buy-for person in your life is ME," he said.

My daughter Sydney had been the one to introduce me to the transformative effects of Jack's magic beans. She encouraged me to sprinkle some over my morning yogurt. Fortunately, our 3,000 mile separation enabled me to hide the fact that the bag of chia seeds remained on my kitchen counter, sealed and silently judging me, for months. I foolishly mentioned their existence to my friend Sarah though. She immediately realized that Sydney's recipe was too complicated for me and offered an easier alternative. "Try sprinkling some over crunchy peanut butter spread over whole wheat toast," she advised. Not known for my poker face, I crinkled my nose. Sarah was stymied. "Was it the whole wheat toast?" she asked. Not wanted to discourage her as she had somehow, without a resume, credentials, or an extensive interview process, assumed the mantle of "Amy's Accountability Partner," I made a slight accommodation to her innovative suggestion. "I wonder how Nutella would work in this scenario?" Sarah sighed and walked away, vowing to renew her fight another day. 

Shortly after this, I found myself at the school on a Saturday, peering into the fridge to check on the condition of the three diet chocolate puddings that I had snuck in there in hopes of finding them a good home. Imagine my initial despair, upon purchase, when I had found myself the tragic victim of mistaken pudding identity. And you know the old saying: There's no pudding up with diet desserts. Anyway, the three gross pudding cups were still in there but, gasp, so was SOMETHING else. Something UNIMAGINABLE! HORRIFIC! NIGHTMARISH! Someone had plucked leaves from a tree, added a milky liquid, and was allowing it to ferment in the fridge.  Was it a science experiment of some kind?  A voodoo potion? A weird herbalist healing balm? Regardless, I was completely traumatized and did what any person in my position would do...snap a picture and post it on Facebook to shame the culprit.

My friend Michelle was immediately outed. But rather than take accountability and apologize, she instead loudly proclaimed the health benefits of her toe-curling concoction and then proceeded to chase me around the school for days trying to get me to sample it.  It was a harrowing week but it did encourage me to make the courageous decision to finally unseal the chia seed bag. Nothing could be worse than Michelle's glass of goop, I said to myself.

It was a proud day when next Sarah asked me about my chia seed journey. "I opened the bag!" I told her. "That's great, Amy!" she applauded, "What did you think?" I blinked at her, confused. "About what?"  She took a deep breath, realizing we still had a ways to go. "Did you sprinkle them on a salad? Oatmeal? What about ice cream?" I scowled. What was it with THESE people? It's never enough for them. "I TOLD you," I growled, "I OPENED the bag." Sarah re-grouped immediately. Smiling, she clapped her hands. "Small steps! I'm so proud of you!"  The Bible talks about faith the size of a mustard seed. A mustard seed sounds a LOT more appetizing than a chia seed! Someday, I'll be able to let you know. Just have some faith.