Emily calls herself a 'bad mom' – but she is no such thing. Instead, she's human like the rest of us who constantly engage in the classic struggle between what we 'ought' to do and what we want to do.
I have three kids. Nine, seven, and one.
Like every mother (or every mother who loves her kids – my mom always used to tell me "if I didn't love you I wouldn't care what you did," so now I feel I need to make allowances for non-loving moms since they have kids who get to live it up), I want my kids to eat right.
Eat a rainbow. Be open to new things. Don't be afraid just because something is different.
The thing is, I can't do that for myself. Hypocrite = me.
I'm a comfort eater, meaning I eat things that are comfortable for me (not eating to comfort myself). I like meat. Potatoes. Bread. Ketchup. Potatoes. Pasta. Cheese.
See a theme?
I cannot force myself to eat things I don't like. Give me onion slivers in my spaghetti and I'll spend a ridiculous amount of time picking them out. Mushrooms? Don't even. Bell peppers and whole tomatoes? The texture makes me gag.
Sure, I've gotten over some of my issues as I've aged. I eat mustard now. Carrots. Asparagus. Even salad if it doesn't have gross stuff on it.
Subsequently, I have two older children who eat mainly macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, and pop tarts.
My kids – who will run screaming from the proposition of eating anything remotely fresh or particularly healthy-smelling – strangely enough have no problem trying things like chicken nuggets dipped in caramel, crackers dipped in water, or pizza left out for, oh, I don't know, three days, dipped in shame and silence.
I think I hear CPS at my door.
Seriously, I feel terrible looking at it written out like that.
But it's the truth. And I feel awful.
When they were younger, I did things like sneak applesauce into their cookies, broccoli into their spaghetti sauce, natural peanut butter instead of Jif. Small things, but they at least made me feel like I was trying.
Now that they're older, I get "Mom, what the crap is this?"
I know it's a downfall I have as a mother. But I also understand not liking things. I tell myself they'll grow out of it.
Except, I didn't. So maybe they won't.
I just make sure they take their vitamins, and hope the baby will never fear green things.