I grew up in the ’90s, a time when my biggest worry was how much Surge I could chug before my next soccer game. “Crunchy” parents and “organic” foods? Not in my world. We were happily munching on Cool Ranch Doritos, indulging in Little Debbies, and bathing in the sugary goodness of life as we knew it.
Fast forward to my life as a millennial mom, and suddenly the grocery store feels like a battleground. I’ve tried to navigate the perimeters—meat, produce, dairy—while avoiding the sugar-laden aisles that scream “heart attack.” It made me feel like I was doing something right, even if my gardening skills were non-existent.
But then I had a friend over for lunch, and everything changed. When she opened my freezer and saw Tyson chicken, she practically fainted. “Is that Tyson chicken?!” she exclaimed, as if I’d presented her with a three-headed monster. “Don’t you know that’s packed with hormones? Those chickens are kept in cages!”
I stood there, bewildered. What did she expect? Chickens running free while serenading me with lullabies? I grew up on a farm—if they weren’t caged, they were chasing me around the yard.
After she left, I fell into a rabbit hole of online research. Big mistake. I found myself watching disturbing slaughterhouse videos, reading alarming studies about kids’ snacks causing cancer, and listening to podcasts claiming that non-organic milk could lead to kids hitting puberty in kindergarten.
I felt overwhelmed, nauseated, and just plain angry. What can my kids eat without turning into mutant beings? It turned out there were horror stories lurking around every corner. Unless I was prepared to raise an entire farm in my living room and nurture each animal with the tears of angels, I was destined to fail as a parent.
Then, I stumbled upon an episode of Penn & Teller: Bullshit! where they debunked the myths of organic food. It eased my guilt a smidge, though I don’t usually seek nutritional advice from magicians.
So, I settled into a balanced approach. My kids still enjoy processed foods, but I sneak in organic options when I can. Sure, they may experience a sugar rush now and then, but they’re not sprouting beards in preschool just yet.
I’m not claiming to be perfect, nor am I entirely lazy. I’m just doing my best to find a happy medium. I won’t be the mom who hands out sippy cups filled with Mountain Dew, but I also won’t be raising chickens in my backyard. I care enough to make informed choices but not enough to start crafting homemade soaps.
Honestly, who has the energy for that?
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In summary, while I might not be feeding my kids all organic foods, I’m doing my best to strike a balance. Parenting is tough enough without the added pressure of perfection.