I Would Do Anything for My Kids—Except Share My Snacks

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I would gladly lay down my life for my children without a second thought. If they needed an organ or a pint of blood, I’d be the first in line, ready to donate whatever they need. I’d traverse any distance, crawling through deserts or dragging myself across rocky terrain if it meant protecting them from pain or heartache. But when it comes to my food, there is one crucial exception: my snacks are off-limits.

I know it’s important for parents to model generosity, and I do my best to embody that spirit in other ways. But when my kids approach me with those big, hopeful eyes, asking me to share a bite of my treat, they’re met with a firm refusal. Seriously, they better think twice before reaching for my plate, or they might just end up with an accidental nibble. I’m not being cruel; there are solid reasons why I’m protective of my food, whether it’s a chocolate bar or a healthy salad.

Why I Don’t Share My Snacks

First off, kids can be downright gross. I’ve seen their fingers exploring every nook and cranny, often only to end up wiping the remnants on my walls. They can leave the bathroom without so much as a splash of soap, and I’ve witnessed the remnants of their chewed food slip into my drink. The drool that forms a connection between their lips and my glass is just too much. I take my snacks seriously, and I can’t tolerate the thought of my treats being subjected to such unsanitary conditions.

Then there’s the unfairness of snacks. My kids indulge in cupcakes and cookies at school, while I’m over here trying to fit into my clothes — not to mention my leggings have a limit to their stretch. So when I finally get to enjoy a rare treat, they should really reconsider asking for a piece. Just because they had a cupcake doesn’t mean they get to share in my moment of joy.

Look, I provide for them in every other way. They aren’t starving while I enjoy a banquet of goodies. If there’s something particularly tempting, like a stash of Girl Scout cookies, I’ll hide them away and savor them in peace. I’m not gorging myself while they munch on carrot sticks.

Every day, I give everything I have—physically, mentally, and emotionally—as a mom. I shuttle my kids around, remember important details on their behalf, and advocate for them. If I want to keep my food to myself, I refuse to feel guilty about it. After all, it’s one of the few things that remains just for me. I’m not withholding love or support—just that cookie I’ve hidden in the back of the pantry.

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In summary, while I would do anything for my kids, sharing my snacks is where I draw the line. It’s a small way to reclaim a bit of personal space amidst the chaos of parenting.