I Am Not a Role Model

I am a 32-year-old, stay at home mother of two, and I just had cookies for breakfast. I didn't eat the cookies right in front of the kids. In fact, I haven't even seen kid #1 today, because John got up early and sent that one off to school without even waking me. That always sucks because I don't see him but rocks because I get to sleep an extra hour. I waited to hog down the cookies until after I'd walked kid #2 to the corner.

This scenario might lead you to believe I'm not doing too badly, because the kids don't actually see me eat the cookies for breakfast, but that's not always the case. One kid or the other has busted me on more than one occasion, trying to hide a cookie against my leg or in my cupped hand or even by cramming it into my mouth. They know. I see their eyes staring at my hand as they talk to me. Sometimes they ask what I have or what I'm eating, and because I'm a closet snacker, I tell them it's none of their business. I have become my mother.

Even if I don't get caught, they know. They will come home from school, wanting a snack of those cookies we bought at the store a few days ago, and they can't have any because the cookies are gone. "What happened to all the cookies?" they ask. "They got eaten," (you can see I'm an excellent example of grammar as well) I tell them. "Oh." Then the guilt comes rushing in, and I give them a list of healthful foods they should have instead because cookies aren't good for them anyway.

It's not like they don't get any cookies. They eat some of them. I just eat the rest or most. Sometimes I'll leave just enough, so they can each have a couple. Sometimes I don't have the willpower to do that. Sometimes I buy cookies I won't usually eat. I'm not big on Chips Ahoy or Oreos. That might seem strange coming from a confessed cookie monster like myself, but I am not going to argue any cookie that doesn't strike my fancy.

A cookie that has been tempting me ever since I saw it on store shelves were the Mrs. Field's cookies. I love Mrs. Field's cookies from the store in the mall, even though they stopped making my all-time favorite, butter-toffee cookie (curse them!). And the cookie on the box looks so delicious. Being the cheap girl that I am though, I couldn't justify spending $3.50 for eight cookies in a box. That's cheap compared to the mall, but at the mall, I know what I'm getting. This was unproven cookie territory.

Well, I made the mistake of going to the store hungry, and I ended up buying a package of cookies for each kid (that too helps me stay away) and a package of cookies for me. I decided to try the Mrs. Field's outrageously priced cookies. But because I was unsure of my cookie satisfaction, I also wanted the fudge sandwich cookies I so love. The stupid store didn't have them, so I had to settle with E.L. Fudge, which are awfully skimpy on the fudge.

I got home and couldn't put the cold stuff away fast enough to rip that box of cookies open. Each cookie is individually wrapped, and they are all lined up in a plastic tray. The packaging was impressive. Would the cookie be too? I'm sorry to say, it was not. I didn't find that cookie any better than your standard Soft Batch, and you get a helluva lot more Soft Batch for $3.50. It's not that the cookies were bad, and I ate every last one of them in three day's time, but they just weren't gourmet enough for the price tag. I'll blow money on a good cookie, as my many investments in Pepperidge Farm cookies will tell you, but this one just didn't meet my standards.

Can you imagine growing up with a mother who spends this kind of energy on cookies?

I ate the last of those stupid fudge cookies today. There were five left, and I was only going to eat a couple, but the remaining three looked really lonely, so I ate them too. This, six days before a grueling adventure race. Yeah, I'm going to be ready.

I keep trying to control the cookie thing. I buy a package of cookies, thinking this time, I'll only eat a couple here and there. It usually starts out that way, and then I find myself eating a couple here and there all day long. So I think the best answer isn't to try to overcome the cookie obsession but to stay away from it. I can buy a cookie at the mall once in a while. Not only will it keep me in check, but it will make me be a better example to my kids. I don't like the thought of them in therapy crying that their mother at all the cookies.