Thursday, September 22, 2011
In the time of pre-child, if I saw a mother having to share her food with her child, I would think, “That sucks.”
I didn’t ever want to share my food. ESPECIALLY at a restaurant. It was ALL mine.
I was the type that would slit my eyes suspiciously if anyone wanted to “share” or “taste” each other’s plates. I ordered what I ordered because I wanted it, and I wasn’t sharing anything.
I love food.
The poor mothers who would say, “Oh, I’ll just let him eat off my plate,” or the poor mothers who offered up their food to their children because it would make them so happy, so happy if their child could eat a little more. Poor mothers.
I guess I won’t make a very good mother because my child’s going to have to eat their own damn food, is what I thought.
Of course, I was wrong.
It bothers me not one bit to share my food with the little bird by my side. I am pleased and proud if he will just try something new off my plate! I have no hesitation in giving myself less or sharing whatever I have so that he can have more.
I am a good mother. I’ll share my food with you, my bub.