Crabmommy: The Momocrite diaries
I'm going to share a motherhood tip that I hope will be useful to you. I'm going to tell you how to eat a donut right in front of your preschooler without her catching on and wanting one too.
I've long been meaning to keep a journal of motherly hypocrisy, recording all those things I swore I wouldn't do until I became a mom and now do constantly (from judging other moms to encouraging my kid to watch some TV). Being a momocrite of course also extends to doing the very things that you tell your kid not to do.
In my case, I have bad teeth and want Crabtot to grow up with good ones. So I try to keep sweets to a minimum. I try to do the same for myself, but while the mind is so often willing, the body, my friends, is weak.
Last week I was grocery shopping at Albertson's when I wheeled past their delectably, hideously fabulous donut display. A whiff of trans-fatty deliciousness greeted my nostrils and there was no turning back. It didn't help that I hadn't eaten all day and it was now 4pm. It didn't help that soon I would be home in my own house where the most exciting treat in the pantry is a bag of mango strips.
Sometimes, mango strips just don't cut it. Sometimes there is only one thing that hits the spot, and it is round and glazed and has a hole in the middle.
But how could I eat a donut without the alert, beady-eyed child seeing it happen? After all, she was right in front of my face, in the grocery cart kiddie seat up front. This is where true parenting expertise is called for. In other words this is where you need to get really sneaky. I myself favor a three-prong plan of attack: Distract, Deflect, Devour.
Distract: I wheel Crabtot over to a wall of children's toothbrushes and have her examine a fistful while mommy goes "to get ginger." Crabtot has a hard time making decisions. This means I get to buy some time. And a donut. But, while Crabtot takes time over decisions, she also gets antsy if I'm gone too long. So I cannot lurk in the veg aisle to eat the donut solo and instead report promptly back to tooth aisle, donut stashed discreetly behind my right thigh.
Deflect: I don't only possess a donut in my right hand. I have a Fruit Roll-up in my left. Fruit Roll-ups are not great for the tot teeth either. But in this case you have to measure the damage: donut or Roll-up?
I open Crabtot's Roll-up and let her have at it. It's hard for her to peel, which makes donut consumption easier, since Crabtot's gaze is concentrated on the peeling. We continue shopping, and all the while I perform this elegant trick I shall call the swipe and swallow. What happens is that you direct the tot to look at something, or show you how well she's peeling her Roll-up, and while she busies herself in front of you, you sort of lurch off to the side for bites of the donut, one arm extended while half-concealing the donut up your sleeve.
Devour: the real point here is that you have to eat fast. Which is not a problem for me. Since having a child, I can eat an entire bowl of pasta in about three bites. Standing up. I think you moms out there know what I'm talking about.
And so, fellow mothers, while I may be ashamed of the donut consumption itself, I'm proud of one thing: I accomplished something that in retrospect seems quite remarkable. I stuffed my face right in front of my tot's face! And she didn't see a thing.
Now that's good momming for you!
Anyone else have a guilty pleasure or momocrite moment to share?
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