My children are no longer little–but they’re not quite grown up either. They are quintessential examples of American teenagers, which means that they have become undeniably brilliant while I, their mother, has become woefully and pitifully ignorant. By the time all three of my teens entered adolescence, I gave up on battles and turned, instead to humor and the ever-effective “smile and nod” as preferred forms of communication. But one area where I haven’t managed to keep silent is when it comes to nutrition. To me, a big chunk of motherhood is wrapped up in food preparation, mealtime and cooking. I’m having a hard time letting go of my motherly desire to nurture through food…
My kids have had the nutrition classes, they have reached the age where they can make healthy choices and might even choose the glass of ice water over the three cans of soda, but I’m still not entirely satisfied with their lopsided choices. As is typical, they are actually less likely to be adventurous in their food choices now than they were just a few years ago. But, what I really wonder and fuss about–is whether or not they are getting enough fruits and vegetables!
Thank goodness for tomato sauce, so at least something from the F & G families is getting into them with all the pizza they eat. And they will eat salad, although each one is quite choosy and opinionated about what should go in a salad–so we have “salad bar” fairly often around here. Mostly, I see a lot of quesadillas, sandwiches and nachos being constructed in our light-filled kitchen–there is also the ever-popular fried egg sandwich and the macaroni and cheese. I try to support these growing efforts toward food preparation independence, but I can’t help it– I catch myself saying on an almost daily basis, “When was the last time you actually ate a vegetable?”