🄪 Sandwiches, Sneetches, and why gratitude feels complicated

My 3-year-old asked to stay home with me this morning. (Usually he goes to Montessori preschool.)

It’s tough to get much done when he’s home. He wants me to play with him and pay attention (the nerve! 😜). Part of me wanted to say, ā€œJust go to school,ā€ but another part reminded me, ā€œThis is one of the reasons you started your own business…to have the flexibility to say yes sometimes.ā€

Of course, there’s something to be said for helping kids build resilience and not saying yes to everything. But yesterday I read something that made my chest tight.

You’ve probably heard SNAP benefits were paused, with uncertainty around when they’ll resume and whether they’ll return at full levels.

42 million people (over 12% of the U.S. population) rely on SNAP to put food on the table.* Nearly 39% are children under 18, and 11% are kids younger than five.

That’s 4.6 million children ages 0–5 who depend on SNAP to eat. They have no control over this.

When I read that, I pictured my 3-year-old being hungry and me not being able to feed him. Instant tears. 😭


Here’s what nobody talks about: the guilt that can come with actually getting what you asked for.

Sometimes it’s not fear of failure that holds us back—subconsciously, it’s the discomfort of getting what we wanted.

I’ve been thinking about this lately, how even moments that feel like dreams coming true can carry a strange weight. Like when I share a story about going to a ball or having a private chef cook dinners (a manifestation from my vision board) and immediately feel a pang of guilt.

It can feel heavy and gross to talk about abundance in a world where scarcity is someone’s reality.

And I don’t ever want to be tone deaf to that.

I remind myself that showing abundance isn’t bragging—it’s modeling possibility and sparking hope. When we see someone who looks like us or comes from a background like ours living a dream we have, it stretches what we believe is possible for us, too.

I absolutely believe money in the hands of good-hearted people creates change.

It allows us to support causes we care about.

To start animal rescues.

To donate to food banks and shelters.

To fund cancer research.

I’m not saying a few donated blankets will balance the scale, but small actions add up. We’re not powerless, and sometimes those small things remind someone they’re not forgotten.

We can be grateful and still want better—for ourselves and for others.


So I let my son stay home today, even if it meant getting nearly nothing done (unless you count me typing this whileĀ The SneetchesĀ plays in the background and his entire toy basket is dumped out ā€œto find the Bowser car at the bottomā€).

If you’re also feeling that mix of sadness and helplessness, here are a few tangible ways to help—no matter your budget or time:

Support local shelters:
I sent blankets and towels from Mary’s Place’s wishlist; their mission is to ensure no child sleeps outside.

Support food banks (money goes so much further than cans)—my locals:

Bonus if you work for an organization who matches donations!

My friend Natasha, who runs the nonprofit Chai for Charity, said something that stuck with me, ā€œ20-year-old me had lots of time, but no money or talent, and 40-year-old me has some money and talent, but no time.ā€

She’s an inspiration to give what and how we can, with whatever resources we have.


Meanwhile, my son just asked for a ā€œjelly sandwich with peanut butter.ā€
I made one—no crusts, cut into triangles, half strawberry, half raspberry.
He decided he didn’t want it anymore. 🫠

Usually, I’d say, ā€œYou literally just asked for thisā€¦šŸ˜‘ā€ But today, I took a breath, because I’m reminding myself that being able to give him another choice is a privilege in itself.

xo,
Nicole

What is happening with SNAP and how you can help
*Data source

comments

0

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *