Ask me what I had for breakfast today. Go ahead, ask. In between drama club early drop off and lunch making and five other breakfast making I had a handful of blueberries, some mini vanilla waffles, and half a piece of peanut butter toast. All off of someone else's plate, a child's plate, to be exact. I'm a grown woman, I should be eating a regular grown woman breakfast, right? So why, then, am I grabbing passed over leftovers off of a Peppa Pig plate?
Well, the first thing is probably...time. I'm "busy", especially in the mornings. Once I have my cup of coffee ready to go (NOBODY SPEAK TO ME BEFORE THEN) mornings tend to be a wild ride involving numerous children underfoot, lots of questions flying at me like "Where is my homework" and "How come our dog has fur" and it all sometimes feels like a race against the clock to get everyone packed up and ready to go on time (I've only missed the bus ONE TIME in six years, a stat I will aggressively defend). I am hungry in the mornings, yes, but I don't seem to have the time to actually make something I want to eat for myself, let alone sit down and eat it.
The second thing is that I hate wasting food. I HATE IT. If there are a few stray bites of grilled cheese or some rogue banana slices I will eat it rather than throw it away. Some days before I know it I've cobbled together an entire "meal" out of leftover yogurt and goldfish crackers, mostly eaten while standing up and also doing something else, so when it comes to when I actually have time I'm sort of full? Like full enough that making an entire meal seems unnecessary?
As a family, the one meal we always sit down and eat together is dinner, and for that meal we usually will not succumb to young child demands for "kid food" and will make one dinner (albeit we sometimes "customize" that one dinner: just a little sauce, extra sauce, don't even let sauce near my plate nor think about sauce while serving me, etc). But for every other meal, kid food reigns. As healthy as I can get it while still have them consume it (because again, no wasting), it still winds up being the small child variety of sorta plain, very basic, occasionally shaped like a dinosaur. And that's what I eat. And the thing is, they're sort of on to me. If they don't want to eat it, they know I will. Yes, I am their human garbage disposal. Me and the dog. Don't like it? Throw it our way (okay they only throw food at the dog, usually).
Lately though, I have promised myself I will make my own time to eat my OWN food. Call it self care, call it me time, call it normal adult behavior, I am done eating goldfish crackers. I have forgotten how important it is to model healthy behavior for the kids, and if they see me only scarfing their own discarded pb&j crusts, what kind of message am I sending them? Mommy only eats scraps? Mommy doesn't take the time to sit down and eat but you should?
I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but I'm going to work on it. Except when it comes to Pirate's Booty. I love that stuff. I'll keep you guys posted...