Not long ago, I attended a children’s birthday party—a frequent occurrence for parents with kids under the age of seven. The festivities had just started, and while the children were still in the early stages of play, my four-year-old son, Ben, had already made headlines by calling another child a “Sillyhead.” Seizing the moment, I approached the food table before the offerings had been overly handled.
At these gatherings, the food selection often aims to outshine the previous event, as mothers revel in culinary competition. I wholeheartedly embrace this rivalry; it means more delicious options for everyone involved. My plate was adorned with an array of delicacies: savory meatballs, flaky spanakopita, cheesy bread, herb dip, Margherita pizza, and, of course, a colorful assortment of fruits and vegetables to maintain the appearance of healthy eating.
During my indulgence, another mother expressed her hunger, admitting she had “forgotten” to eat lunch. She recounted how this was a common occurrence, even requiring her husband to occasionally deliver meals to her as a reminder. This struck me as peculiar; I couldn’t recall ever forgetting to eat—especially not since becoming a parent. With my already limited sleep, the idea of functioning on an empty stomach seemed implausible.
Food serves as my primary motivator when Ben bursts into my room at 6:24 AM, ready to start the day. It provides the energy I need to prepare his school lunch while simultaneously urging him to get dressed and organizing a pile of LEGOs—yes, even using my teeth when necessary. It fuels my daily routine, helping me muster the energy to shower and dress in something other than the t-shirt I’ve worn for three days. Food grants me the patience to guide my child into the car when he insists on completing his LEGO train first, despite only three pieces being assembled.
Moreover, food is essential for surviving children’s birthday parties. As long as I’ve had my “three squares a day,” I can manage the toy store visit, purchase a gift, hide it, and navigate the inevitable tantrum when Ben discovers it. On party day, with Margherita pizza and meatballs settling in my stomach, I can oversee the bounce house, ensuring safety, while also managing Ben’s disappointment when his balloon animal pops. I can intervene during cake cutting with a firm, “Hold on! Your slice is on the way!” And when the goody bag spills and the toys scatter, I can maintain my composure while Ben cries for his toy to be fixed “right now.”
I accomplish these tasks because I am a parent who “remembers to eat.” My experience has shown a direct correlation between a satisfied stomach and effective parenting.
Even in the unlikely event that I momentarily forget to eat and the clock strikes 2:30 PM, I feel confident that simply walking into the kitchen would trigger a miraculous response: pantry doors would swing open, the fridge would hum and illuminate, and apples would roll into my hands, already peeled.
Consider the survival shows where people endure the wilderness, subsisting on mere drops of water collected from leaves, celebrating their first meal of roasted skunk on Day Three. In such a scenario, I would likely perish before the filming crew could capture the footage. And if Ben were accompanying me, my demise would happen even sooner.
To forget to eat? I would be more likely to forget to breathe.
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Summary
The act of forgetting to eat may seem implausible for many parents, as the demands of parenting require a steady intake of food for energy and patience. The author reflects on the importance of nutrition in their daily routine, highlighting the challenges of managing children while ensuring self-care.
Keyphrase: Forget to eat as a parent
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