Confessions of a Pantry Goddess

by Angel Rutledge

I think it was on the final lap through Super Wal-mart last week when it hit me. As the sole member of my family in charge of food, I have a special power. I realized this as I stood watching my six-year-old’s Oscar® worthy performance in the cereal aisle. There she knelt, a box of Chocolate Lucky Charms clutched above her head, her eyes squeezed shut, imploring, “Mom, please, please, please. This is the best cereal in the whole entire world. Kirsten’s mom buys it for her, and if you buy it for me this will be the best summer of my whole entire life. I’ll only eat a little bit each day, I promise. Plus, I will not even ask for anything else the whole entire time we are in this place. Pleeeazz?”

After considering her plea for a whole entire second, I said, “No,” and tossed three boxes of Cheerios in the cart before heading to the checkout lane.

My daughter, knowing she didn’t stand a chance, gave a “Hmph!” and followed after me quite dejected.

It was her giving up, just like that, all at once that did it for me. Wow, I thought. When did I become a food Nazi? No sugar cereal for you! You want a chocolate chip cookie? Ha, ha, ha, ha. Here’s some raw broccoli instead.

Of course, I know being Keeper of the Junk Food Drawer and Goddess of the Pantry are responsibilities that come with motherhood, and saying no to so much sugar is the right thing to do. But when I’m really honest, I have to admit that I don’t always use my power for such noble reasons. 

Like, take for example, the afternoon my daughter said she couldn’t wait until Grandma and Papa got here, so she’d finally have someone fun to hang out with. Pow! Pow! an extra helping of peas showed up along side her Tuna Helper that night. Then there was the day that I was able to take a shower without once poking my head out to yell, “Could you two please stop fighting?” and SCHAZAM! snack that day consisted of fudge-sicles instead of cheese and crackers.

And don’t even get me started on the degree to which guilt factors into this power. You know what I’m talking about. After being grouchy all afternoon, you decide to take the kids out for pizza. Let’s be honest, sometimes I think the reason children in our society are obese is not because they are couch potatoes who stuff their faces with junk food ad nauseum…okay, maybe that has something to do with it…but I suspect the main culprit of our offspring's’ chunkiness is Mother Guilt. It is this guilt that causes us to decide, I’m not spending enough time with my kids. Let’s go to Ben and Jerry’s for dessert and this same beast who whispers, I had to clean the house instead of playing Chutes and Ladders a hundred times today, maybe a trip to Krispy Kreme wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

I know there are mothers who don’t think like this. And I commend them. Most often, they are the strong ones who don’t pour out their Mother Guilt on their children but instead feed their own faces with their remorse. They are the ones you see carrying around an extra thirty pounds on their hips while their kids bounce around in thin bodies never understanding the lengths to which mothers go to keep them healthy.

So what is a mother to do with such power? As Lord Acton said, “Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Maybe I could let my kids make some food choices on their own.

To that end, yesterday when they asked for M&Ms an hour before dinner, I pulled out a full bag and set it between them. “If you eat too many, you won’t be hungry for dinner, and you’ll feel sick.” Half a bag later, I couldn’t bare to watch any longer, and I confiscated the chocolate. I suppose I should be thankful that it was only my son who threw up all over the couch later that night.

Then, it occurred to me…maybe they’re too young for so much power all at once. Next time I think I’ll let them choose which vegetable they want with dinner instead. Besides, broccoli’s a lot easier to scrub out of the sofa than chocolate.

Angel Rutledge is a novelist and freelance writer who masquerades as a slightly off-the-wall stay at home mom. The pair of rambunctious children often seen hanging from her every limb screaming obscenities like, “Mine! Mine! Mine!” are the impetus for much of her writing.

A former creative writing and English teacher, Angel taught at a magnet school for gifted students in Virginia Beach, VA for several years. While there, she developed and published curriculum, wrote winning grant proposals and lead the faculty in its two year school accreditation process. As a bonus, she also picked up cool phrases from her students like, “He’s all that and a bag of chips.”

After having her daughter and moving to Los Angeles, CA in 1999, Angel pursued her second passion of writing. She took classes through the UCLA Extension Program with instructors Lynne Hightower, Aimee Liu and Claire Carmichael. At this time she is working on her third fiction novel, a mommy lit. story entitled P.I. Mom: The Homeland Assignment.

In addition to writing novels, Angel is compiling a nonfiction book, Real Moms Speak: Wisdom from the Trenches, in which the true experts on motherhood voice their parenting insights. For more information on the book and to contribute your writing go to www.RealMomsSpeak.com.

Angel is also a freelance writer. Most recently, she wrote the discussion guide for the award winning video The Sparky Chronicles and published Good Kindling Wood and other Uses for Parenting Books on Charlottemommies.com

Three months ago she moved with her husband and two children to Charlotte, NC where they are learning to drink sweet tea and wave to all their neighbors.