It isn't always easy being a 21st century mom.
After all, you have a world of knowledge at your fingertips, so you can't ever say that you didn't realize microwaving corn dogs didn't count as dinner.
And sometimes treading the landscape between 20th century grandmoms and where you're standing can be a bit treacherous. I remember, for instance, that once my first little guy was ready for solid food, I was careful to follow a list for breastfeeding mamas of which foods to introduce first, and in what order. I was religious about it - in hindsight, probably a bit self-righteous and neurotic. But still, it was MY baby, and I was going to do my best to avoid food allergies and expand his palate. Selfishly, I also wanted the pleasure of actually being in the room when he first tried a new taste sensation.
So it wasn't such a great day when we were only up to strained cereal and mushed peas, and I walked in to discover my mother-in-law feeding him clementine quarters.
Now, it's kind of a funny story, and I love my mother-in-law - who has already gone above and beyond for our kids - so it's also water under the proverbial bridge.
Oh, and my son has no food allergies anyway, although he isn't all that hot for clementines.
But even though our household is long past the baby food stage, I still like to have the last word on what they do and don't eat. When we are home, that isn't much of an issue. We eat pretty well - although we have one picky eater and one gourmand in our crew. However, the system quickly begins to break down when Chuck E Cheese birthday parties, playdates, vacations and daycare become a part of the routine.
We are not food police. My kids get plenty of treats here and there, and I don't toss the giant bag of Halloween candy after three days. (I do steal the Almond Joy bars, but that's a story for another time). But I do try to limit the sugar, avoid most processed stuff and get as much fruit and as many whole grains into them as I can without them really noticing too much.
So when our eldest started kindergarten, I dutifully packed his lunch each day. Peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat, box of raisins, a Z bar, an apple ...
It worked for a while, but my son isn't stupid. He noticed all those other kids standing in line with plastic trays and loose change. He wanted to "buy.''
We now let him purchase school lunches once a week, conferring on the menu and letting him have the say of which day he wants to que up for mac 'n' cheese and chocolate milk.
The menu isn't awful, I guess, although it still seems extremely heavy on carbs and very repetitive. Popcorn chicken (which, after all, is primarily breading) shows up with alarming frequency and we have regular arguments about how the yogurt and string cheese offered every day is not any more exciting than the yogurt and string cheese we have stockpiled in our own fridge.
But I get that the commercial exchange that goes into "buying'' is all part of becoming independent, as is having a choice and breaking away from that little box mom has filled for you. I get it. I also remember being that age, when, believe it or not, a big day for me is when the school cafeteria scooped up mashed potatoes. I used to bug my mom for an extra quarter so I could get extras. Ah, youth.
I applaud national efforts - led by the First Lady - to make school lunches even healthier. It would be great to see more diversity, more whole grains, more fresh fruits and veggies, and less Popcorn chicken.
Sending your little one out into the world to make his own choices and trusting him to actually eat whatever good stuff may be available is a bit daunting and requires a measure of letting go, a relinquishing of control (freakhood), and a leap of faith his choices will, at least some times, be the best ones.
It is a first step in the letting go we'll have to get used to more and more as the years pass.
Gulp.
Somebody get me an Almond Joy bar, please.
