My Daughter, My Nutritionist

Seems that there’s this trend going around through the health-nut community to educate our children about healthy eating habits, and I find this very distressing. Gone are the days when a mom can sit down and have a nice stack of Oreos in peace! Oh no, now I have to contend with Micaela saying confrontational things like, “You know those are full of trans fats, right?” and “You shouldn’t have a snack right before bed ‘cause your body, like, won’t metabolize it right.” Huh?!!?

It’s not bad enough that I have to listen to this advice from a little size 5 pre-teen whose newest goal in life is to develop a 6-pack (Thanks, Carl.), but even worse is the fact that, dang it, she’s so right!

Gone are the days when my children would sneak up and steal my Oreos—or whatever other trans-fat-filled indulgence I may have chosen. (Well, except for Jordan, who would eat pretty much anything and still crawls under the bleachers at the gym in search of any dropped snacks from previous bleacher-dwellers. HE will still eat my Oreos.) Instead, now I have to eat my Oreos in shame, under the glowering disapproval of a 12-year-old. She stands glaring at me, hands on her hips, telling me how my spleen might burst and my head might just explode if I eat one more granule of processed sugar. (No, I don’t really think this will affect my spleen, but then again, I don’t have a medical degree.)

And to top it all off, I got a lecture about the evils of soda all the way to Neosho last week. That’s a 2-hour drive, folks, so that was a LOT of lecturing. Did you know that soda is a one-man-army with the sole purpose of casting us all into a life of toothless shame and obesity? Ok, I might be exaggerating a little about her lecture…but not a whole lot.

So no more Oreos, no more soda. This kid is trying to kill me. It used to be that I would look forward to a nice snack after all the kids were settling down—sort of a sugary form of Prozac to get me through the rest of the evening. But this…this is not relaxing, not in the least. At least if I curl up on the couch with a stalk of asparagus, maybe she won’t lecture me anymore. But somehow, asparagus and milk doesn’t sound nearly as good as cookies and milk.

Ok, enough sarcasm (but I still really want a cookie)—I gotta give a shout-out to their awesome coach for teaching them not only to be rockin’ trampolinists, but also all-around healthy and strong kids. Maybe they can teach their mom a thing or two!

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