True Mom Confessions

They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?


Ok, here goes....Deep breath...


My name is Mom, and I pilfer from my daughter's treat bag.


There, I've said it. Yes, I am a treat taker, a candy grabber, a munchie moocher, a food filcher, a sweet stealer.


And aside from a teensy, lingering, Catholic-bred guilt for violating the 8th commandment, I don't even feel that guilty about it.


What teensy bit of guilt I have was brought on because of the imminent onslaught of Valentine's Day. Which means Lily's class party and estimated 28 new pieces of candy to add to the aforementioned treat bag. (No peanuts and no homemade goodies of course, proclaimeth THE SCHOOL).

The treat bag itself is a work of art - an orange scarecrow pattern with "Happy Halloween" and Lily's name embroidered on it. Kudos to Grandma Marsha. I never guessed when I first used the Halloween bag that it would become a four-season bag instead. Because when the Halloween candy stockpile appears as though it is just about to deplete, it is replenished with treats from the school Christmas party, then Valentine's Day, then the "spring" party. And all the birthday parties in between.

I think there may have been 3 days last July around MLB All Star Break where there wasn't any candy in the bag. Maybe 4 days. Certainly no longer.

So...in a single calendar year I estimate my child is ingesting about 19,310 grams of sugar. Or she would if we let her consume all the candy.

And even without Googling this info, I'm about 99.9% certain that number is slightly above the American Dental Association's recommended intake of sugar. And the American Pediatric Association. And the USDA, the FDA, WebMD, New England Journal of Medicine, Dr. Phil, the Mayo Clinic and the Dhalai Lama.

So really, I'm just doing my maternal duty by consuming her chocolate stash. I'm protecting her from a lifetime of cavities, obesity and childhood diabetes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing!

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. All residual guilt is GONE.

Of course, all this analyzing and rationalizing is making me hungry.

I think I'll go see if she's got a Kit Kat in there.