Being Unselfish is Hard Too

Parenting calls for a lot of unselfish acts. There are lots of things you choose to go without so your kids don't have to. I can't remember the last time I bought tennis shoes for myself (my staple footwear 8 out of 12 months), but I've purchased three pairs of shoes for Danielle and two pairs for Tyler just since April. And underwear. Let's just say I would be embarrassed if I had to be rescued from some odd emergency like the ones your grandparents warn you about. But Tyler will be getting new undies this week. When the money is there, it's just normal to look for and fill a need (or even a want) that the kids have before worrying about ourselves. I think that's normal for most parents. (Honestly, it's a lot more fun spending the money on them anyway.)

There are lots of other things we "pass up" out of love for our kids - sleep, any movie not rated G, dates, quiet dinners, a sporty little car, the last piece of pizza or chocolate cake, a clean house, a restaurant without a play area. We share our time, our bed, our sushi, and our big Chipotle burritos. As responsible (most of the time) and loving parents, there are lots of things that we willingly and even gladly sacrifice so our children can have the benefit or pleasure of enjoying.

Honestly, everything I just mentioned is relatively easy for me to give up, go without, or share at this point in the game (although I do still miss having a date with Ron now and then). But before you think too much of me, I have to admit my deficiency. My selfishness kicks in in the kitchen. Of all the things I'm willing to give up or share, why do I have to share the brownie batter spoon?? I'm even ok handing over the cake beaters, but there's something about that brownie batter spoon. I'll gladly wear holey underwear, smelly old shoes, and watch Barbie Mermaidia twenty times while they split the last brownie from the batch, but please please don't ask me to share that spoon.

It doesn't matter how quiet I try to be in the kitchen mixing things up, the kids KNOW. Danielle usually picks up on it first because she's begged me to make some brownies and is watching for it. "Mommy! Whatcha doin'? Are you makin' brownies?! Can I have a taste? Now? I want the 'poon! Can I have the 'poon? Please, Mommy? I really want the 'poon."

I may battle that selfishness internally for a minute, but really, what choice do I have but to hand it over?

(But I hide the bowl for later.) :)