In the ever-expanding folder of mom-guilt is the quality of snacks my kids consume. Early in their lives this was easy. Their plates were exclusively healthy choices: fruit, vegetables, tiny bites of cheese, a handful of Cheerios. When faced with squash on their plate today, my husband and I remind them they used to love squash, among a variety of other foods they deny ever enjoying! Avocado? Yes! Sweet potatoes? Affirmative.
My oldest son loved Kashi oatmeal for breakfast. If you’ve never tried it , the taste resembled what you might imagine a woodpecker’s breakfast also tastes like. But he LOVED it. It’s all he knew.
And then his eyes were opened to all the snacks he now prefers.
Which is why every trip to the grocery store presents the dilemma of the snacks. My kids told Alexa to add Cheez-Its to the list. Now what?! There is no avocado version that might at least trick them into consuming a healthy version of Cheez-Its. But it’s the cereal aisle that deepens the dilemma. As Captain Crunch and Barney Rubble stare you down, you alone have to muster the strength to take an honest look at the grams of sugar now conveniently displayed on the front of the box. You can follow your nose or go cuckoo and come home to kids who call you Tony the Tiger’s famous line. Or, you can find 13 grams or less to be a fine cereal guide.
In the end, however, what matters more than what I buy is what my kids choose to eat. Like most of the reality of raising kids, I have very limited control. Regardless of my choices, their choices are really their own and not mine to make. Will I always be the one buying their groceries? Nope. The snack dilemma isn’t mine to solve, but rather it is mine to equip them to solve on their own.
Which should make the mom-guilt file stop expanding, right? Why doesn’t it work that way? Only the famous cereal aisle leprechaun knows. I do believe that regardless of the snacks I buy, the cookie jar should never be empty. This is wisdom from my mom. Healthy snacks are one thing; cookies keep us from worrying way too much about it.
Lisa Lewton 