MY CHILDREN EAT BEETS, AND OTHER LIES I MAY HAVE ACCIDENTALLY TOLD YOU  

A few posts ago, I wrote about how I’ve been eating “power foods” as much as possible to try and stay healthy, and wrote specifically about spinach salads and beets. My cousin Paige commented that she could never get her kids to eat beets.

This made me think about what other falsities I may accidentally lead you to believe.

My kids don’t eat beets. Spinach? Not a chance. Skyler will eat bowls of broccoli and peas, and Reed will eat peas and mashed sweet potatoes. With lots of butter and salt. But that’s it. They are totally unadventurous eaters. About beets, Reed says: “those are basgusting.” Roasted squash? Skyler says: “Gross.”

The biggest way that I suck as a parent is that I allowed my kids to become picky eaters, and that I started them off as little kids eating chicken nuggets (I cringe to even say those words together) and now they love them. They also love mac and cheese, hot dogs and pizza. And if I don’t feel like fighting them on it, that’s what they eat. I don’t photograph their plates of food. I have lots of friends whose kids eat what they eat for dinner and I think: damn. I screwed that one up. I cook separate meals for my kids every night and then Sam or I make what we’re having. I see a New Years Resolution brewing here.

I vividly remember that when I was pregnant with Skyler, I said: “I’m never going to let my kids eat chicken nuggets or fries so they just won’t know they exist.” HA HA HA HA HA HA. Ha. That’s rich! I also said that my kids wouldn’t drink juice. Hilarious.

While I’m at it, the other biggest way that I suck as a parent is that I let them watch tv while I’m trying to get something done in the kitchen, and when my intentions are to let them watch for 20 minutes, that almost always stretches into too long.

I know this isn’t earth-shattering stuff, and I know we all crop our photos and choose our angles to make things look the prettiest but I just feel like saying that on a typical day my kids exhaust me, I often forget to use my calm mommy voice, Sam and I argue about stupid crap, I forget to be grateful for everything that I have, I fixate on what I don’t have that I want, and my kids eat processed chicken for dinner.

Phew. I feel much better now. Thanks.

Oh wait… this one is too good to pass up: On Thanksgiving evening, my kids were hungry before any part of the dinner was ready and we were all so sick of cooking that I gave them peanut butter and jelly and sliced bananas for dinner. They were psyched.

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