Mothers: The Bottom Feeders of the World

Don't let the disguise fool you.

These are sharks. The top feeders of the world. They eat first, they eat as much as they want, and they leave the scraps for those who come after.

This may look like a normal mother to you.

But actually, she is a bottom-feeder. At mealtimes she hangs around on the outskirts of the feeding circle, waiting with baited breath to see what will be left for her meal.

Mostly at my house this occurs at lunch time. I'll admit, I like kid-food. I like chicken nuggets and corn dogs and peanut butter and jelly. But I hate wasting.

You out there with small children know that at any given lunch time the same child who ate four sandwich squares, half an apple, and four Oreo cookies could easily the next day eat only one sandwich square, turn his nose up at the apple and, well, he would probably still eat the four Oreos.

So, in the interest of not wasting food, often I don't actually make my own lunch. I make food for the boys, and then I eat whatever is left over.

Here are a couple examples of what I eat for lunch on an average day:

But even if I didn't mind wasting, not making my own food could be seen as a logical choice for any bottom-feeder who is trying to regain a comfortable fit in her favorite jeans. Half-eaten carrots, I can probably discard with a clear conscience, but somehow the tiny bits of chips or cookies with two bites taken out of them are absolutely irresistible.

Previous to discussions about this post with my dear husband (who came up with the title) I didn't even notice that I was a bottom feeder. Perhaps I even congratulated myself on my frugality, and prided myself on my ability to sacrifice the last bit of rice to my children.

But the more I think about it the more I realize that this habit of mine is likely a manifestation of a plague of motherhood- the loss of self. Mothers, in our kind and generous way, siphon off parts of ourselves to make room for other family members to have more or better. Mothers give up hobbies and passions to make room for soccer practice and homework. They reassure themselves that at some point they will have time to regain those parts- when the kids are older, when the kids are in school, when the kids are out of the house.

But sadly, by then, many mothers have completely forgotten who they are. No longer Diahan, but just mom. Not that Mom is in anyway a demeaning or undesirable title. But it is just that, it is a title, a part of who I am, but I mustn't let it be me in my entirety. Hard as it may be, I need to learn to make time for Diahan, so she doesn't get lost, so that when these few privileged years are over and my children don't need my every moment, I will see be someone recognizable.

But with so many demands on my time, however will I achieve this? My solution: date more. Not date more people, but date more often. Jared is the one person in my life who has always demanded that I be me. When I spend time with him I feel like Diahan, I feel smart and funny and flirty. He supports me in my mothering and encourages me in my Diahaning.

I have been gone doing things for Relief Society almost every night this week. So this morning I considered staying home and being a mom and a wife instead of going to Yoga for Diahan. But he simply said, "You should go." That was all I needed- just that little bit of encouragement, so I went, and it was fabulous. Just one example of how he demands that I be me.

What a great guy.