Over the past several months there have been times when I have not been able to do even the few things that remain my family responsibilities. One of my remaining jobs is ordering the groceries on-line at Harris Teeter where my husband then goes and picks up the filled order at a designated time.
During the weeks I was unable to fulfill this responsibility, I noticed that the house was suddenly filled with previously forbidden foods, mostly "sugar cereals." There were Apple Jacks and Fruity Pebbles, Froot Loops and Corn Pops. I finally felt compelled to raise the issue with issue with Bill.
My mother calls me the Food Nazi because she thinks I am too strict with the kids about what they can eat. I admit that I have issues with food. I prefer for the kids to eat the least processed foods possible; I'd rather make the cookies, cakes, and pies myself than buy them. That way I know what it is them. And I do believe the best philosophy is "All things in moderation." But my definition "moderation" does not translate into daily consumption. Sweet cereals are fine as a treat when my parents want to spoil them but every day is too much.
The sugar content bothers me but what really troubles me is the colors. In nature bright blue means, "Don't touch." Bright blue makes me think of poison tree frogs. Of course one could argue that mangoes, apples, and banana are colorful but they aren't neon, and they don't turn your poop different colors (although when I fed Amelia blueberries as a baby it looked like she had pooped a smurf). So I'll admit my reasoning is not fool-proof.
I asked Bill not to buy the cereals, which I realize is especially difficult if he gets stuck dragging the kids along to the store with him. So I renewed my vow to order the groceries once a week. Yesterday I called Bill at work to make sure I had everything on the list. He reminded me to get cereal. What do you want? "I want Honey Nut Cheerios and the kids want sweet cereals," he replied. "Hadn't we just talked about this," I thought, "Bill, they cannot eat sweet cereal every day. I'm not ordering them." I longed for the day when I had the strength to make Aidan's oatmeal from scratch every morning and felt like he was eating a really healthy breakfast.
I can just imagine the dramatic transformation that will occur in my pantry when I am longer around to piss and moan about Bill's purchases. But as long as I still have the strength to do so, I will try to continue my reign as the Food Nazi.