Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics. After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World
For this week, Tracey’s topic choice: It’s that moment where . . .
When the little guy was recently afflicted with a some random cold virus, I did what most moms would do. I let him cuddle up on the couch with his favorite blankie. He requested the tablet so he could watch his newest obsession, Milo and Otis. I made sure to give him a dose of Tylenol in order to bring his fever down, which really wasn’t skyrocketing, but I wanted him to be comfortable. Comfortable kid, comfortable mom, you get my drift?
As I fluffed a pillow behind his head, I soothingly asked my sick baby boy: “Do you want me to go to Culver’s and get you some ice cream? Will that make you feel better?”
As soon as the words left me, I wanted to clamp my hands over my mouth. I looked worriedly up at my husband who was smirking at me.
“Did you just hear what I asked our son?”
My husband nodded his head in agreement. “Yes. You asked him if he wanted ice cream. I wasn’t going to point it out or anything….”
Ice cream is the one true vice in my life, and I blame my Grandma. No, she isn’t sitting next to me and coaxing a spoonful but her voice is in my head whenever I don’t feel well, when I’m sick and tired. When I’ve had a bad day. For most of my childhood, Grandma swooped in with heaping spoonfuls of strawberry swirl with the occasional twist of peppermint when the season called for it. In fact, she’d often tout peppermint’s many healthy attributes.
“Sarina,” (which is what she called me instead of Sara, it’s a long story) “is your stomach upset? Here, eat this bowl of peppermint ice cream. Did you know that peppermint helps to settle the stomach?”
I’m not the only one in the banana split boat. My kid sister was right there with me through the years, feeding her ailments with any ice cream that had chocolate in it. To this day, we both marvel at the powerful grip ice cream has over us, and it’s extended out to other forms of sweets as well. I’ll feel satiated with pie or cake, too.
I knew in that exact moment that I’d planted the seed in my little guy. He perked up a bit and told me that yes. Yes, he’d love some ice cream. Part of me felt guilty. I am sure there are better ways (and foods) to feed my ailing kid, but a larger part of me felt loved.
Grandma meant well. She loved me enough to try to make me feel better. It was a treat when I’d get strep throat and she’d take me through the drive-thru, anticipation for a milkshake outruling the ridiculous pain in my throat. She raised me a good many years of my life and although there was a lot of ice cream, there was a lot of healthy foods, too. She made a mean salad right from her garden, and she supported my ban on butter, chocolate and oily, greasy foods. (I didn’t like the taste for those foods then, and I wish I still didn’t now!). Her ice cream splurges weren’t a constant thing, but an occasional thing. I was a healthy kid.
My kids are, too. They moan and groan through spinach-based salads and are constantly asking, “What’s that?” when I try to sneak something into a lasagna or soup. They tow the line when it comes to eating healthy. I’m in support of living a healthy life yet knowing that moderation is key when it comes to what we eat. We don’t eat sweets very often at all, so that begs the question: What’s a spoonful of medicine, er, I mean ice cream every now and then?