I would give everything for my children—without a second thought, I would trade my life for theirs. If they needed an organ, a vital part, or even a significant amount of my blood, I wouldn’t hesitate to undergo the procedure. I’d travel to the ends of the earth, crawling through the harshest terrains if it meant protecting them from pain or suffering. I am ready to do anything for my kids, but there is one small yet crucial exception.
I will not share my food—because there’s no “we” in “my food.”
I understand that as a parent, I should model generosity and selflessness, and I strive to do that in many aspects of our lives. However, when my children come up to me with their big, pleading eyes and hopeful faces asking for a bite of what I’m eating, they are met with a quick and firm refusal. Honestly, they should think twice before reaching for my plate, or they might just end up with an accidental nip. I’m not trying to be difficult, but there are some very valid reasons for my food boundaries, no matter if I’m enjoying candy or a healthy salad.
Kids Can Be Gross
First and foremost, kids can be pretty gross. I’ve seen those little fingers probing where they shouldn’t and then wiping their discoveries on my walls. I’ve observed them finishing a drink and leaving behind a string of saliva that could rival the thickness of a tugboat’s rope. I know how they lick the flavor off their snacks only to leave me with the slobbery remains. I take my meals seriously and refuse to let them be subjected to such unappetizing behaviors.
Snack Inequality
Then, there’s the issue of snack inequality. My kids indulge in delicious treats constantly, while I often deny myself those pleasures. They enjoy cupcakes and frosted cookies at school, sweets during the holidays, and lollipops from the bank drive-thru. Meanwhile, I attempt to limit my sugar intake, trying to fit into my clothes when I take them to the playground. So, when I finally get a chance to indulge, they better think twice about asking for a piece of my dessert. Just because they had a cupcake at school doesn’t mean they’re entitled to my carefully savored treats.
Not Hoarding Food
Let’s be real—I provide them with all the nourishment they need; they’re not starving. I’m not hoarding food while they wait with empty bowls like Oliver Twist. If I have something particularly delicious, like a box of Girl Scout cookies, I’ll hide them away to enjoy in peace. I’m not indulging in front of them while they munch on carrot sticks.
Self-Care as a Parent
Every day, I give everything I have as a mom. My kids draw on my physical, mental, and emotional resources as I juggle their activities, advocate for them, and assist with homework. If I want to keep my food to myself, I won’t feel guilty about it. As any parent can attest, it’s one of the few things that remains exclusively mine.
I’m not withholding love or support; I’m simply protecting that chocolate bar hidden in my top dresser drawer.
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Summary
This piece humorously captures the lengths a parent would go for their children while setting firm boundaries when it comes to sharing food. It emphasizes the importance of self-care and the need for personal space, even in the realm of parenting.