Thursday, March 10, 2011


I like to pretend I'm pretty average in my tastes and preferences. I like to imagine I'm not part of the cultural elite or a self-parody straight out of Stuff White People Like, but then again I do have an unhealthy attachment to NPR despite their recent antics -- and then there are my children.

Sure, I have enough of them to make most sane people blanch, but I'm not sure even that makes me nearly "of the people" no matter how many Duggar references it might inspire. But back to those pesky little children -- it is their eating habits that really mark me.

I'm not a hard core enforcer of any particular food craze. My kids eat whole grain bread baked by me (sometimes), whole foods, organic foods, ethnic foods, and all that jazz, but they sometimes drink soda and eat a Happy Meal. We follow the everything occasionally and Indian food a lot diet, but I may have just introduced them to a few too many foods and turned them into elitist foodies.

I became aware of the problem several years ago when we blithely shipped the oldest off on a church outing only to find out upon his return that he'd informed the parents cooking breakfast that he preferred his eggs sunny-side up and runny and his orange juice to include mango as well. I laughed it off as one oddball kid (and besides I was used to him).

I was sure my children were perfectly normal, after all they pick the tomatoes and mushrooms out of everything I cook. It is probably not really them.

Or maybe...

Today I was chatting with the four year old about things that are red. "What fruits are red?" I asked. He thought for a minute and then said, "Pomegranates." Later when we'd moved on to green things he offered, "Edamames are green."

I didn't think we were so far off the beaten path, but maybe we just eat weird around here.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011


I haven't given up blogging for Lent, although I am going to be away from the internet during the daytime. I'm just busy doing real life. Too many coughing sickies, visitors, reading lessons and times when a four year old wants to sit down and "talk 'bout aminals." I'll be around when I can.
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