MotherMorphosis

Eating Like a Mom

The two-minute corn dog

Photo by Shannia Christanty on Unsplash

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I had my first-ever corn dog during the summer I was on maternity leave. We were enjoying a daycation getaway with Grandma, who had come back from California to stay with us that summer. The baby was asleep in the stroller, and Grandma was chaperoning The Bigs on the merry-go-round.

I pushed the stroller back and forth rhythmically with one hand, while I snarfed the way-too-hot deep-fried, cornmeal-covered hot dog, gesticulating with it appropriately every time Grandma and The Bigs went by. I finished the corn dog, wadded up the stick inside the napkin, and tossed the bundle into the bin just in time to meet Grandma and the boys at the ride exit. I was still chewing.

As we made our way to the next attraction, the skeeball attendant across the way laughed as he informed me that I “ate that corn dog like a mom.” At the time, I was mortified to think that someone had witnessed me gobbling my lunch in under two minutes. But, I wondered, isn’t that just how moms eat?

It was definitely how I ate: in a hurry, on the go, in the car, while I work. Even today, more than two decades later, I usually eat lunch at my desk because my lunch hour is reserved for the on-site gym where I work.

When my kids were little, it was hard to keep track of what and how much I ate. If I could only remember what was in the empty leftover containers in the sink, I would know what I ate at my last meal (or few, depending upon how long it had been since I washed the dishes).

My meal plans included the toddler diet (cleaning off leftovers from my older boys’ plates), the stand-and-feed smorgasbord (standing in front of the refrigerator while eating, no temperature modification or utensils involved), and the double-dinner meal plan kid dinner and subsequent adult dinner). (And yes, these dietary habits were counterproductive to losing the “baby weight.”)

I will never forget the Thanksgiving dinner I hosted when The Bigs were both under two. Oldest was sick, and Grandma had come over early to help me with the “boybies,” as they were known then, as well as the dinner preparations. My husband at the time had started new hobbies like golf, hiking, hunting, and nature photography when I was pregnant with my first. His newfound interests kept him out of the house during most of the hours the kids were awake.

We had maybe 15 people that year, all of whom were my husband’s family, aside from our two children and my mom. I don’t recall joining the grown-up table that year. Instead, I spent the time consoling my sick child, nursing the five-month-old, changing diapers, and orbiting both the children’s table and the grown-up table to ensure everybody had enough of whatever they wanted. That experience epitomized my typical challenge of trying to eat a normal, healthy, sit-down meal.

It took a skeeball operator, years later, to make me feel seen, not shamed.

“You ate that corn dog like a mom,” he had said, and today I hear it in my mind, “like a boss.”

You’ll find stories like this in my book, *Snakes, Snails, and Puppy Dog Tales*, which is available in paperback and free with Kindle Unlimited.

**✍️ **I used to write B2B content for Corporate America. Here’s my portfolio. Six months ago, I made a career pivot to the financial services industry. 📈

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