I don’t remember when it started, but I’ve become the unofficial bin for my daughter’s leftovers. One fish finger, three soggy chips, half a yogurt—and voilà, a mum-style tapas tea.
It all starts so innocently. I’m clearly away the remains of my daughter’s tea and the next minute, I’m standing over the kitchen sink link some fridge-raiding (giant) mouse, nibbling the leftovers. I tell myself it’s “being resourceful.” After all, I was raised on the golden rule: “waste not, want not.” And I hear my mum’s voice in my head every time I hover over the plate: “Think of the starving children!” (The things we tell our kids to make them eat!)
Well, I’ve realised I’m not alone. Having read The Busy Mum’s Survival Guide I have discovered it’s called The Myth of the Last Fish Finger – the idea that somehow it’s noble, frugal, or even necessary to hoover up what your child didn’t finish.
But let’s be honest—this isn’t about global hunger. It’s not even about hunger most of the time. It’s habit. It’s tiredness. It’s the “I skipped lunch” excuse. It’s the low-level chaos of 5pm parenting where anything that doesn’t sulk or spill is fair game.
And then there’s the cupboard. You know the one. Stocked with “treats for the kids”- those choccy bars and mini packs of crisps that you technically bought for school lunchboxes but somehow keep disappearing. Guilty, your honour.
So what’s really going on here? The last fish finger doesn’t need saving. I do.
We’re multitasking ourselves into meltdown. We’re overstretched, under-fed, and wired to believe we have to do everything, be everything, and also be the kind of mum who serves home-cooked meals, keeps a tidy house, crushes it at work, and has the restraint of a Buddhist monk when it comes to biscuits.
Well, I’m calling time on that nonsense (with a little, no a lot of help from friends!).
Here are two small things that are making a huge difference for me. I am not taking credit for them, and they are definitely not rocket science but until I read them in black and white it just didn’t compute:
- Create a “no-go zone” for the snacks. Put them somewhere high, hard to reach, or in a box you don’t open. Out of sight, out of temptation. Those treats aren’t for you—and they’re certainly not there to patch over exhaustion or skipped meals. This also means persuading the hollow-legged chocolate eating person you live with not to leave their snacks in said cupboard either!
- And second, Have a grown-up snack to hand you actually like. When I know 5pm is going to hit hard, I make sure I have something decent to eat before the dinner-time circus starts. A handful of nuts, hummus and crackers, even a small bowl of popcorn. It means I’m not standing at the sink hoovering up cold fish fingers like a mum-shaped Dyson.
And most importantly, I’ve made a deal with myself. It’s a work in progess but still.
We don’t eat from the kids’ plates anymore. Not because we’re being “good” or trying to shrink ourselves, but because we deserve better than second-hand scraps and guilt.
When I caight myself mid-swipe last week, I literally say out loud, “We don’t do that anymore.” I get a strange look from the dog but it worked.
If any of this sounds familiar and you’re nodding along (possibly while holding a half-eaten dinosaur nugget), you are not alone. That’s exactly why The Busy Mum’s Survival Guide was put together by nutritionist and busy mum, Sam Capes—packed with real-life tips, zero judgement, and the kind of advice that makes you feel human again.
Download it today, and say goodbye to guilt—and to cold fish fingers.
