Bad Mommy — The first installment in a series of many

When I have it in abundance there is no moderation. I’m an addict. I drink one, then another, and another until it is gone within a few hours. I can’t even begin to fathom the amount of money I have spent on it over the years. Now it seems my children have inherited my addiction. We buy by the case. Multiple cases, actually — in three or four different flavors.

We are addicted to soda. Mountain Dew, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper — we each have our favorite so I buy them all. Or I did. I have banned soda by the case in my house. My daughter, who eats like a bird, is overweight and my son hasn’t slept since 1998. I know — bad mommy. 

So I am on a mission. I am trying to provide some healthier alternatives. Instead of buying soda by the dozens I am buying plenty of water and juices. I ignore the whining that invariably ensues when I come home from the grocery with only a case of Dasani. It is hard. I make some compromises.  

Every day I trek down to the convenience store to buy each of us a bottle of pop. One a day — surely that can’t hurt too much. I usually have three or four extra kids hanging around so sometimes this means I have to make a couple of trips from the cooler at the back of the store to the cash register. Every day I stand there feeling guilty while the clerk rings up my five to ten 12-ounce bottles of pop. And every day he says the same thing.  

“Would you like a bag?” 

Why? Why does he ask me the obvious day after day? It took me three trips to get all my freaking pop to the counter! It would take me three trips to get all my freaking pop to the car!  

Today I am going to tell him, “No. Just give me a minute while I grow another freaking arm.”