I left work a few hours early to get some rest because this awful sinus cold is about to drive me insane. (Not that I’m not already there, mind you – just a worse part of insane.)
Anyway, I stopped at the store to pick up a rotisserie chicken for dinner. After all, I didn’t feel like eating breakfast, I skipped lunch, and I’m really in no mood to make anything for dinner. So, a pre-cooked bird it would have to be.
And what do you think I did as soon as I got home (after I washed my hands)?
I cut open the chicken… and started cutting up bite-sized pieces to feed to The Boy for dinner.
Never mind that I haven’t eaten all day, Never mind that he’s got plenty of food in the house. And let’s not talk about the fact that I think may have cut up two servings of chicken for him. Oh, no. When I see food, I think of The Boy’s tummy first.
So, is this normal, this habit of putting my child’s needs/wants before my own? I mean, I assume I’ll outgrow it eventually. I can’t, after all, imagine myself in another 13 or 14 years fretting about whether The Boy has had enough to eat or is getting enough sleep. Surely he’d be able to fend for himself by then. But at the same time, I have this strange feeling that there will be some other need/want of his that will be exponentially more important than my own.
Of course, it could just me another one of my (many) neuroses…