First, I am not sure to what I owe to honor of being featured as a Saucy Blog this week. If you are visiting from SITS, welcome. Pull up a chair, get comfortable, and stay awhile.
Our household has been fairly health conscious in our eating habits. By our household, I mean unwillingly and under duress. Craig would survive on Doritos, Nutty Bars, and Mountain Dew if I let him, but I don’t. As a result of my desire to rule the earth, errr, my house, we have subsequently raised a toddler who is a good eater. It isn’t unusual to see her eating salmon, asparagus, or feta cheese. To appease all of the haters, I am not saying that we don’t allow her indulgences; they have just been exactly that – occasional indulgences.
However, life has sort of thrown us for a loop over the past six weeks. Are you sick of hearing about how miserable life has been in our household? Poor me, call the wah-mbulance, right? Since I am sick of hearing myself whine, odds are that you are one step ahead of me. As a result of all that nonsense, our decent eating habits pretty much went MIA. When the decision on the line is your sanity or fast food, fast food doesn’t seem like that bad of an option. Although my blog might be more entertaining had I opted for the other route and ended up with a case of The Crazy.
During this time of No Boundaries, an amazing phenomenon happened; Kate acquired a taste for garbage. I mean seriously, it is a pandemic. Give a kid McDonald’s once and they are jonesing for their next fix. Bribe a kid with a cookie and they expect a subscription to cookies-on-demand.
I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad until this weekend. Two things happened this weekend. First, upon discussing lunch on Saturday, Kate said, “let’s go get something to eat.” I said, “sure, we will pick up lunch on our way home.” With a look of disgust on her face, she replied, “NO, I want to eat lunch at a RESTAURANT.”
I didn’t realize I’d let it get that bad. What’s next, no make-up and sweatpants?
Second, she awoke on Sunday morning, convinced she was having ice-cream for breakfast. While I may have been slightly less Hitler than usual about breakfast choices, I can assure you that I had not allowed ice-cream for breakfast to happen. After some intense debate, Kate quickly learned that ice-cream was not an appropriate breakfast food. Without missing a beat, she looked up at me and said, “I think just a bit of ice-cream would help my little cough. Actually, it would be perfect.”
My brain should not get this much exercise from a not-yet-three-year-old.
A Tour of My Parents’ House
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