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Queen of Your Own Life

Dick, Jane, Sally and Cookies | The Battle for You

by Kathy Kinney

I bought an old Dick and Jane reader for a couple of dollars at a consignment antique store the last time I was in the Midwest. I like to scan the images and use them for making funny cards.  Today when I was looking through my images the above page caught my eye.  I’ve used it many times in different art projects but today is the first time I really absorbed the images.  The page represents all the important basics in Dick and Jane’s life.  They all make sense to me – Mother, Baby, Father, house even Spot and Little Mew are all central elements in Dick and Jane’s world. Two things left me puzzled – where was Grandfather and what’s with the cookies and candy?

Grandfather could have run off with a showgirl from Las Vegas.  Although, I guess it was more likely when this book was being used as a teaching tool that Grandfathers died and Grandmothers moved in with their children.  I don’t really care about the back-story on Dick and Jane’s grandparents.  What really struck me was the food.  I was trying to think if cookies and candy were basic in my life when I was growing up.  The answer is yes not only were they important in my life they were the basic building blocks of my feeling loved.

I remember one time when I was six or seven, a couple of kids had come home with me after school and we were playing on our front porch.  Suddenly my mother appeared with a tray carrying three little glasses of Hawaiian Punch and a package of Windmill cookies.  I was so surprised to see her and the food that I said, “What’s that?”  She looked at me like I was an idiot.  Then answered me as if she showed up everyday in my life with little glasses of beautiful ruby juice, “What do you think it is?  It’s a snack.”  A snack.  My mother had thought about me and decided that I needed a snack.  As I sipped my delicious tropical juice and nibbled the almonds off my cookie I thought, “She does love me.”

Of course my mother loved me but she was a busy woman and didn’t usually take the time to show me affection.  As I remembered the story I started to laugh.  Of course food equals love – it’s textbook.  My mom gave me a fruit drink and some Dutch cookies and that meant she loved me.  I give myself big spoons full of almond butter so I must love me.  I can’t help but think that I could have skipped so many years of compulsive eating and rewarding myself with food if my mother had just come out to the porch that day and given me a hug. Can you ever reward yourself with too many hugs?  I think that will be a fun thing to find out.  So, my goal for today is to offer and accept as many hugs as I can.  Maybe if my hugs are energetic I can even count them as cardio.

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11 Responses to “Dick, Jane, Sally and Cookies | The Battle for You”

  1. nanci says:

    thank you for your thoughts on food as reward. At age 59 with so many losses, I am just now starting to reward myself with food and can feel myself doing it. How strange!!!!!

  2. sara says:


  3. Karen T says:

    Thanks, Kathy! I’m going to trade cookies for hugs in my life starting now!

  4. Chris Butterworth says:

    This so resonated with me. It was always a reward with food or if something were wrong, a special dinner. I’m sure my mom was only doing what she knew. If I continue thinking, I am probably just as guilty with my own kids – who are grown. Food, food, food. It’s not like we can give it up totally – we have to eat to live. But, the question for me is how to live with it and not be addicted to it for love and acceptance?

    I will continue my mantra in my head and hopefully will be able to break the cycle or change the tapes!

  5. cindy says:

    {{hugs}} to you Queen Karen for sharing that!

  6. cindy says:

    Thank you Queen Sara.

  7. cindy says:

    The need to overfeed ourselves can strike at anytime Queen Nanci. Isn’t it great that you’re aware of it and can choose to do something differently?

  8. Barb says:

    I really struggle with this. When I was growing up, there was never enough at home. I didn’t have any concept of “poor” but I knew at age 8 how to hunt for things in the pantry to try to cook for myself.

    When we were sent out to Grandma and Grandpa’s farm for a vacation, it was surely what Heaven is like. Grandma’s kitchen was flooded with sunshine, cleanliness, and the smell of good cooking and a full cookie jar… AND hugs. Lots of hugs. It was the only place on Earth I felt full, body and soul.

  9. ceara_red says:

    Queen Kathy asked where Grandfather was. My guess is that he was already in heaven looking down on his family and wondering…well, I don’t really know what he was wondering.

    Men still, even if they are married, live fewer years than women, which makes for an interesting time at the retirement center, i understand.

    BTW, I started reading the first chapter of the book which was so generously provided, but I stopped as soon as it was mentioned that women in pre-Christian time didn’t like the term crone any better than women do today.

    I believe that this is not true. In those time, actually surviving to a certain age was something to be celebrated. And crones were looked up to as wise-women, who had managed to live long enough and gain enough wisdom that those who were younger actually sought them out and wanted them to pass along that wisdom.

    They were able to control their own lives, own their homes, do as they wanted without a man telling them what to do.

    But what do I know?

  10. cindy says:

    Queen Meredith, The word crone just didn’t speak to us at all. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t speak to you. We’re totally on board with whatever language makes you feel uplifted and supported and if the word crone does that for you, we’re glad. For us, we needed to create something new because the roots of that word mean “dead flesh.” So Queen became something we could emotionally embrace. We hope semantics won’t separate us from supporting one another.

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