I’ve been hyper sensitive to the toddler diet ever since the last post. This increased exponentially after a good friend pointed out that her daughter had never had white sugar. Never. But then, I started thinking back. Her daughter is just over a year. When M was her age, I was making split-pea tofu soup and homemade yogurts. He didn’t have chocolate or cookies or french fries. He ate what I gave him, which was good, healthy, and wholesome.
And then, almost without my noticing, he developed a mind of his own. He would see things and want them. Want them badly. Want them without even knowing what he was wanting (hence the rambutan going stale on our pantry shelf). Every meal, I hope that the veggies will be a success and more chicken goes in than barbecue sauce. And for every success, there seems a failure on the horizon. At breakfast this morning, he had plain wheat bread dipped in unsweetened cinnamon applesauce along with a glass of milk. How wholesome! Three food groups! No sugar! Then I pulled out a Pop Tart for me. They are leftovers from a postpartum impulse buy at Costco (“Look, a giant box of easy to eat, sugarly satisfying treats in our favorite flavors. Must buy now!” Sleep deprivation is a bitch). I eat them rarely, and only out of a desire to get them out of our house without wasting food. Of course, M wants one. I’ve had three hours of sleep and give in immediately (sleep deprivation is a real bitch). Guilt reemerges with a vengeance.
Will it always be this constant struggle of ups and downs? Are there people who manage to keep their principles intact in the face of a hungry child? A hungry, insistent child? And yet, what kind of principles would I be teaching M if I can eat it and he can’t? Really, no one should eat Pop Tarts. There’s nothing redeeming about them, other than the fact that they taste like my childhood. But wait–I turned out okay. I turned out as a person who worries about fiber intake and high fructose corn syrup and serves veggies at every meal (it counts if they’re shaped like happy faces, right?). So where does that leave me?
Honestly, it leaves me hungry for a Pop Tart. I guess I’m just gonna have to be okay with that.