Insert your word of choice. Getting an enema. Dancing the Cha Cha. Getting a root canal. Whatever.
I love those bumper stickers that say stupid shit like, "I'd rather be driving a titleist." Well, today, I'd rather be doing anything than mixing Hayden's supplements.
If you're a biomed mom or dad, especially one that follows Dr. Yasko, you'll know that mixing supplements could very well be an Olympic sport.
We take over the entire kitchen. Herbs here. Vitamins there. MitoForce spread across the floor. GABA snorted up my nose (in a much less appealing manner than what I'd imagine cocaine to be). We compound. We sneeze. We cuss.
But once the two to three hour long hell is complete, we have Hayden's individualized improvement plan. And knowing how he has blossomed keeps me going.
I'll save the enema for later.
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