Junk food & kids

I’ve been kind of surprised at how quickly the junk food issue has come up with Noah.  I suppose in my mind I lived in an idyllic world where Carl’s and my habits would be immediately reformed and not only that, but the whole world of mall food courts and inappropriate snack food would recede in the face of Parenting.

But no, here are the facts: since Emily died we, the system, have struggled to get back to a good relationship with our body, which is always pretty much fought over the ground of food choices.  And coupled with new-parent stress, sleep deprivation, and the sudden inability to reward ourselves with say, time, there has been some junk food about.

But until the last three months or so, it was pretty easy to just not give Noah whatever the bad food was.  Since then, though, he’s demanded a tithe of whatever we’re eating.

And this is the choice I have made (and Carl too): I have chosen to give it to him.  Of course this has meant not eating really awful shit and stepping up on the whole getting back to eating better thing. 

What I really want for my child is to almost always eat good, wholesome food, that is not only good for him but also is purchased and prepared (and occasionally grown, but I mostly purchase) in a way that is pretty well in line with our values.  And I am armed with a lot of information about what that means and I am lucky to have at least some play in our food budget to make good choices with.

However.

I have also surprised myself by not sweating some of the opposite. I’ve pretty much decided that although it is my job/privilege to keep going on that path towards more wholesome eating, I also value some things as much as clean/healthy eating. 

I value appreciation and politeness, for example, and that is how my son came to be eating strawberry flavoured, corn-syrup laden puffs at one of our better playdate-friends’ houses. This friend of mine does not sweat the food stuff. She is an intelligent, kind, and caring person and I think she is really great. She serves fruit and vegetables and does not deep-fry her son’s breakfast. But she missed the (middle class) memo on the evilness of food companies and she has Alphaghetti in her home.  And I do not consider it my job to try to change her or disrespect her choices in any way.

And it was out of caring that she offered my son a handful of the puffs his toddler peer was enjoying.  And I really wanted to refuse them, except that my little voice (and not a system member, just mine, that conscience one) said that if she were, say, from another country and she was offering my son some delicacy, I would want him to try it, or at least turn it down in grace and style and not in some assholely judgmental way. 

And in that moment I chose the rule of hospitality over the rule of good eating which was try a little bit, it won’t kill you. And I’m kind of glad. (He liked them. I will buy him a pack of them when hell freezes over though, just because they are the kind of toddler-marketed food that drives me batty.)

(Okay if he asked for them for Christmas or his birthday I might buy a pack; see below.)

I also value generosity and sharing. And modelling for your kids. And that’s why, when I have fallen down on the job on the latter - as I have not just once but a few times – by ordering or eating something in front of Noah that isn’t optimal food… like french fries… and he has wanted some, I have at least modelled the first, and shared. 

Yes, I believe that as a parent it is my job to make sure Noah eats healthy food the vast majority of the time. And ideally I would not have a french fry before me to share. But the fact is that sometimes I will order the french fries. In moderation. Because they are yummy, despite knowing all about how much they suck. And I guess ultimately I don’t think that’s so awful, in the context of a whole, generally healthy lifestyle.

And I think also that I could not really live with myself for too long if I totally refused to share them. Sharing food is such a primal thing, and it’s also how I introduce Noah to things like asparagus and bulgur wheat as well as jerk chicken and roti.  It just didn’t at the time and doesn’t in retrospect seem right to hold back the deep fried potato.

So I will continue to occasionally hand over bits to Noah. I sort of hoped he would hate them, but no. He loves them.

Lest the discussion turn to parents who don’t set limits, I have no trouble enforcing the things I think are absolutes: I drink decaff coffee; he doesn’t. No wine or beer. I figure once he learns about pop/soda (we don’t drink it) we will have to make some kind of deal about having a small amount once in a while, but I think it is so awful meantime that it falls in the total no category. If he were to be allergic to something, that would be it too, of course.

It’s just that I believe that a hard limit for me does not include all forms of junk food are forbidden forever. I do believe junk foods really are bad, in a lot of ways. I just don’t think all badness has to be stamped out all the time. Some women have likened this to smoking.  Well, okay, I would be a very happy parent if Noah never smoked. I’m not sure I would be like “oh well, as long as you only smoke two cigarettes a month it’s okay.” 

I have never smoked anything other than second-hand, because I was asthmatic as a teen and this convinced me not to mess with my lungs.  So I will model that. And perhaps junk food is as bad – it certainly is if it replaces a healthy diet. But for me the two are different. Maybe because I know junk food, despite its tendrils, can be limited, and I’m not convinced about smoking.

But I digress – back to values. I value cultural tradition, up to a point.  This being the day of chocolate, it’s an especially good day to just come out and say: I would actually rather that Noah participate in some family celebrations and traditions and eat the friggin’ chocolate, even if I think chocolate is not really an age-appropriate food. Of course I would also like it to be fair-trade chocolate and preferably a really good kind rather than Wal-Mart chocolate. But if it is Wal-Mart chocolate that the bunny brought to grandma’s house or whatever, so be it. 

So today Noah did wake up to find that the Easter Bunny came and left some toys (plastic eggs strewn about! (they were empty. He loved them anyway!), and the old Playschool counting eggs! He thought those were great too! More egg toys!) and incidently, one chocolate thing, and some crackers.  He took a few bites of each, all excited and wriggly. And then we went to the Easter Parade and pointed out the bunny and told him maybe that was the bunny that brought him chocolate!

(He thought that was very… suspect, and a giant bunny was a little bit scary, but he did love the balloons.)

It is kind of crazy, this chocolate toting bunny story.  But what it also is is a welcome to spring, a nod to fertility gods, and one of the weirdest cultural combos (Jesus is risen! Pass the marshmellow chickens!) ever known to man.  How could we not participate, in our own small way (bought the baskets, nice natural ones, at Value Village and saved them from the garbage; bought the toys at the same and on eBay)? Well actually there are lots of ways ’cause we didn’t really do Valentine’s Day as far as Noah was concerned. But I think we’ll keep this welcome to spring, and maybe add in some more respectful traditions as we go along.

All of which is to say that I think I am finding some middle ground here, where food has its place and spotlight but Super Nutritious Everything All the Time is not the trump card to every situation.

I would still sort of like to move towards Vegan Lunchbox standards. But, not there yet. And that is okay. It might be okay forever. I really admire people who are sure they are dead right that all junk is bad /and/ never eat it /and/ keep their kids away from it. I am just not that person. Not yet anyway.

I find it strange to be arguing for a little junk food. I’m unsure how much of that is self-justification and laziness, and how much is actual balance.

But that’s where I am today. It may well change tomorrow.