A lot of people would say I’m a bit of a health nut when it comes to how I feed my kids. I cook almost everything from scratch. We buy as many organic foods as I can squeeze into the grocery budget, and my girls regularly devour things like kale chips and almond meal muffins.
That being said, I am no stranger to “the treat.” Birthday, holidays, mommy-daughter dates – we splurge. I once read a post from a mom who was crazy strict about eating only whole foods for the whole family. They were allowed ONE TREAT PER YEAR. As in, you can have a donut, and then nothing else until next year. I would lose my mind, because chocolate. Anyway, she found out one of her daughter’s lunch accounts had been depleted, and upon asking for an itemized purchase history, found that her little organic angel had been buying cheese puffs and ring dings at lunch time. She was livid. I laughed. Because of course she’s gonna sneak stuff if her big birthday treat is literally one, solitary donut.
My approach to parenting is generally about balance: 90 % of the time, this is the rule. The other 10 % is for totally ignoring the rules and loving the moment. It’s the same way with what we eat.
Except that I may have undone my years of healthy-foods training.
Remember how yesterday I mentioned that I am a secret eater of dark chocolate? I think Smush may have caught on. And I think she may have thought that deep within the darkest recesses of our bedrooms is where we eat treats.
See that? Smush sleeps on the bottom bunk. Those are the slats that are over her head that support the top bunk. When I was making their beds, I felt something. Something soft, but lumpy, stuck in the covers between the bunk slats.
And there I found, stuffed inside, a cupcake wrapper. A cupcake wrapper that had gone missing and once held a vanilla cupcake with strawberry buttercream. I have no one to blame but myself.
Am I worried that she’s hiding sugary treats in her bed? No. Am I worried that something might start growing if said treats are left there too long? Not really.
Am I worried that she might know about my secret dark chocolate? Terrified is more like it.
Time to move my stash.
