I am blogging at three in the morning again (please forgive me if I’m less than articulate). Fiona is sleeping fitfully on the couch. And I am contemplating the idea of creep.
I think it’s interesting how we let things that have no business in our lives creep into them. I mean the stuff we all know better than to indulge in, self-pity, jealousy, an attitude of entitlement. Still we all do it from time to time. What motivates us? Is it that those things provide us with pleasure. Is it that they meet needs that we’re trying ignore? Are we just lazy?
I don’t have any answers (It’s 3 in the morning!), but I notice that I allow creep in our world in other more tangible ways.
Take Fiona’s food allergies. It has seemed for a while like she really has been doing fine on corn. She could handle a little in baked goods. A little in french fries. A little in bread. And I’d allowed more and more of it to creep into her diet. Then I realized that she was having tummy pain again. And I kind of brushed it off. One of those, kids get tummy pain. She’s probably fine.
But I noticed myself doing it.
So, last night, in the face of a dreadfully hot day I bought pre-made chicken for dinner and Oreo cookies for dessert. Oreo cookies are not a “little bit” of corn. They are the whole freaking field, they have cornstarch and corn syrup. And I told Fiona she could have them (controlling for psychosomatic responses).
Now, I am blogging at three in the morning.
Because I knowingly gave my daughter something that she cannot tolerate. And at 1:30 this morning she started vomiting. The exact contents of her stomach were undigested Oreos.
Creep. We start to let things in. A little bit doesn’t hurt. A little more. A little more. And we don’t realize how much we’ve allowed in until we’re eating things that make us sick. (Or worse, feeding them to our children.)
On a frustrating, but more self-forgiving, note, we’ve just trialed corn and it was an abysmal failure.