Dinnertime

Its probably bad that Julian can now say, "Happy Meal! McDonalds!" when he can't say Francesca or Cecilia. That's bad, huh? What can I say, for all my home schooling, cloth diapering, organic eating, home birthing, I'm not Perfect Mom. And when I'm driving home from Spanish Co-op on the Redlands and I have three starving children in the back seat, have to stop for gas in Clifton and am so hungary myself that I can't think of what to eat once we get home . . . we went to McDonalds. I haven't gone there in so long that I was stupified at the intercom. The choices!

If the worst thing I did to my children today was feed them a Happy Meal, then so be it. I was leaning towards Taco Bell because I could've stuck to my fake vegetarian diet, but Francesca and Cecilia would have nothing of it. "I want a McDonalds hamburger because they taste like candy!" she exclaims from the back seat (thanks Granny.) How do they do that? Get a hamburger to taste like candy? Is there crack in those Happy Meals? Do you think they put something in them to make kids addicted? Ground up tobacco in with the hamburger? "And their buns are so soft!" she says dreamily. How do they get those buns so soft? I know why my buns are so soft, its because I just macked down on that deep fried chicken sandwich (not vegetarian.) I was actually thinking, "Man, I hope nobody sees me in the drive thru here. How embarrassing."

Fortunately, parenting isn't a checklist or a goal, its about just being present and mindful every day. When at the end of the day the children are saying, "This was the fun-nest day. Even though it was rainy, it was still really fun," mission accomplished. Now to work on that self acceptance. Mommy guilt is such a biatch.