Choices

Sorry Autumn, I just can't seem to find a way to adhere to your 21-Day Fix rules. Yes, you've made it very easy with the color coded boxes for portioning but I have a hard time with this little thing called hunger.

Hunger and Carter Ann DO. NOT. MIX. 

When I get hungry I make bad choices. It's part of that broken brain I was blessed with at birth. 

Not sure where this fear of hunger comes from, I'm sure a psychologist could enlighten me and I'm sure it's my parents fault, but I'm not interested in blaming others for my feelings and actions. I know! I know! That's so un-American of me isn't it? Someone who wants to take responsibility for her SELF?!? Unheard of! 

The truth is, all parents struggle. And we're all going to screw up our kids. No matter what we do, we're going to mess them up in some way. We're going to over-protect, under-protect. Do too much, or not do enough. We'll let them have too much independence or we'll do everything for them until they're 35. Regardless of our best intentions we're going to screw up. So all we can do is try to make the best choices every day for our little ones.

And my parents did what they felt was right at the time. We didn't have "junk" food in the house as kids. So when my sister and I were old enough to make our own grocery shopping choices we ate our weight in Pringles and PopTarts. If we had these options at home as kids, would we have not craved them and devoured them like a hiker across the Sahara would attack a fresh water spring? I have no idea. My crystal ball is in the shop this week, so I can't look back and see what those choices would have changed in today's time. 

We had family meals, as far as I remember. I mean, I think we did. I don't really remember. I remember holiday meals and specific dishes my mom made, but when I was very young my mom went back to work full time, and I don't remember much of my family time as an adolescent. I remember my friends, my bike, the pool, and my room, but it don't remember much about family time. 

I guess we ate because it was time to eat. Breakfast before school. Lunch at school. Dinner before bed. It was just a thing that happened in the day. Nothing special, no fanfare, no thought as to what was happening other than whether or not it was something I wanted to eat or not. 

And I had very little say in it. Meals were put down in front of me and I ate them or not. Seasonings, ingredients, and taste profiles were never discussed or mentioned. We ate meatloaf or spaghetti or tuna burgers and I don't remember there ever being a choice of things available to individualize them. No red pepper flakes to make it spicy, no extra garlic to make it more garlicky, no A1 sauce or anything other than ketchup for meatloaf. We did have spicy mustard, but that was the extent of the "crazy" side of our pantry. Oh, Daddy had canned sardines. So I guess THOSE are more exotic than spicy mustard, but only because it's a food product that I have yet to find the desire to attempt to try.

So who knows if my attempt to teach my kids about foods will help or not. 

This past Sunday was an awesome day because my football team played at 1:00pm, then Mr. Saucy's team played at 4:00pm, so we planned on junk food for lunch and spaghetti for supper. I went to the store for tortilla chips and ingredients to make queso. I let Conner pick out a snack too. He originally wanted Cheetos, his favorite, but then chose Pringles. 

When we got home, he was so excited to kick off his shoes, open his container of chips and sit on the sofa. Because this is not something we do around here very often. Again, you'll look at pictures of Mr. Saucy and myself and think, "There is no way in hell you aren't eating chips and ice cream all day", but we really don't. We just eat twice as much real food as we should. Again... Back to that hunger issue that started today's rambling.

So... Who knows.  Choices are made. We feel we're doing what's best, but we never really know. We just have to do what our hearts and souls tell us is right and hopefully when the kids are in therapy in their 20's they'll find a way to forgive us for wanting only the best for out little parasites.