Free Ketchup Is a Vegetable: And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves by Robin O'Bryant Page A

which one was mine. Thank God, I restrained myself.
     
    The choir director stood in front of them, the music began and all fifty children started singing about the goodness of God. All but one and that would be mine. My child, stood on the stage, picked her nose and ate her boogers in front of the entire auditorium, for the duration of the song. She didn’t sing a single note. I have it on video, I can prove it. I was horrified . I really thought our booger picking days were over, after Ms. Emily taught Aubrey’s class about germs during the letter ‘G’ week. Apparently the stress of being in front of all those people was more than my child could bear and under the pressure she just crumbled and regressed.
     
    After the performance, my husband and I went to get Aubrey from her classroom.
     
    “Momma! Daddy! Did you see me?”
     
    “Oh, yes. We saw you! You did such a great job! Mommy and Daddy are SOOOO proud of you,” I gushed.
     
    While I was thinking, ‘I cannot believe that I put on a bra, makeup and REAL clothes just to come and watch you eat boogers for five minutes!’ She was totally oblivious to what she had done. A good mother not only knows when to sacrifice for her children, but also knows when and where to lie to them.
     
    Some sacrifices are only temporary.My kids inherited their horrendous morning-time disposition from me. So I understand when they wake up grouchy or cry because someone is looking at them. I get it. I feel that way, too.
     
    One afternoon, Aubrey woke up from her nap, screaming, crying, wallowing in the floor, and just generally acting a fool. “Ah-ha,” I thought, “she needs food.” She screamed something about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the midst of her writhing fit. I was on it. Even though I had a headache, was dying of thirst, not wearing any pants (I was jerked out of the bed by my two-year-old and not allowed to dress) and I realized the only thing I'd eaten all day long was half a chicken salad sandwich — on the heel, gross. But my baby was hungry and she wanted a sandwich, and all that other stuff could wait. My headache, plus the need for water, ibuprofen and pants — they would all have to be dealt with after I made a quick PB & J. I am a mother, a martyr; I would sacrifice for my children.
     
    I made the sandwich, generous with the jelly and cut into squares. Just the way my baby likes it. And even though I knew she'd only eat half, I made her a whole sandwich because to do otherwise would be to insinuate that she is a “baby.” Done.
     
    “Here baby, here's your sandwich.”
     
    “Thanks, Momma.”
     
    “Can I have one bite?”
     
    Aubrey rolled her eyes, totally aggravated and annoyed with me, “Make your OWN sandwich.”
     
    As if she had just worked so hard to make that sandwich herself. The nerve of that child. But a good mother can recognize when a sacrifice is only temporary. I knew there was no way she’d eat the whole sandwich. In a matter of minutes, she would drop half on the floor and be on to something else. “Whatever,” I muttered to myself. “I’ll eat the other half once it ends up on the floor.” At least I swept yesterday that would cut down on miscellaneous debris that will get stuck to it when she drops it on the floor. I am after all, a mother, a martyr... I can sacrifice for my children.
     

10
Ketchup Is a Vegetable
     
    I f you thought feeding your child was a chore when all you had to do was stick a bottle or a boob in his mouth, you are in for a fine surprise. Once you start feeding that child baby food, he’s going to develop an opinion. Once he is old enough to really make some noise? He’s going to let you and all your neighbors hear about it when you try to feed him spinach and sardines, or whichever flavor he has decided he hates that day. Unless you are feeding him a jar full of pureed candy corn, he's not going to like everything you put in his sweet little mouth.
     
    Don’t be getting all