There’s a half-full pack of hot dogs lurking in my freezer, a remnant of my son’s fourth birthday. I had asked him what he wanted for dinner, and after scrolling through a Google Images search for “kid foods,” he excitedly declared, “That’s the dinner I always wanted.” And what did he choose? Corn dogs.
“Corn dogs? Really? I saw some pizza that looked like a face!” I replied, trying to steer him towards something else. But he was adamant.
So, I splurged on organic hot dogs, conveniently ignoring the fact that they’re still essentially made from various animal parts. I mixed up a corn batter and made homemade corn dogs to celebrate my firstborn’s special day. Sure, there were pre-packaged corn dogs just a few steps away in the frozen aisle, requiring far less effort and money, but I let guilt cloud my judgment.
Generally, I strive to provide my kids with healthy, well-rounded meals. I keep processed foods to a minimum and make sure there’s fruit at every meal, vegetables at most, and meat on rare occasions. Yet, every time I add a tiny treat, like a miniature peanut butter cup, I feel a pang of guilt, as if I’m ruining an otherwise nutritious lunch.
My upbringing was starkly different. The vegetables I encountered were mostly canned and drenched in salt, and my breakfast was usually a bowl of sugary cereal followed by cereal milk. I barely ate fruits or vegetables until I was well into adulthood. The first time I tried a strawberry was only after moving in with my partner, who convinced me they weren’t disgusting. As I grew older, I gradually expanded my palate and even cut down on some of the unhealthy staples from my childhood.
When I became a parent, I was determined to foster a healthier relationship with food for my children. I envisioned them running outside to pluck fresh green beans for a snack at the first sign of hunger. There might have been singing birds and a talking squirrel in that daydream too.
But on my son’s birthday, I wasn’t upset about making corn dogs. He devoured them and even asked for a second, something he rarely does at dinner since he knows it could delay dessert. I shared in his delight—corn dogs are simply scrumptious. In that moment, I felt no guilt for giving him what he wanted.
Now those extra hot dogs are still sitting in my freezer, and I realize it’s time to put them to use before they go bad. Yet, I hesitated to cook them, opting instead for what I deemed healthier options. I often worry that letting my kids indulge in their favorite foods might lead them down a path of poor health. But then I remind myself that I survived my snack-heavy upbringing and even managed to do well in school and maintain a decent BMI. If I’m doing my job right, my kids will be thriving by the time they reach adulthood.
I know I shouldn’t let food become an overly emotional topic for my kids, but food is inherently tied to our experiences and culture. It’s part of celebrations and family gatherings. When I reflect on happy food memories from my childhood, they don’t involve grilled chicken breasts. I think of the time my grandmother served ice cream sundaes for dinner just because, or the joy of making dinner for my family for the first time. Those memories are filled with spontaneity and excitement.
I’m trying to let go of my rigidity. Treats are meant to be enjoyed occasionally, and that enjoyment shouldn’t be followed by guilt. Teaching my kids a healthy relationship with food involves showing them how to indulge responsibly and without shame.
So, I guess it’s time to add those hot dogs to our meal plan, guilt-free. And if you’re interested in learning more about family and food, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. You can also explore more about at-home insemination kits here, which offer valuable insights.
In summary, letting go of rigid food rules and embracing a balanced approach to treats can foster a healthier relationship with food for my kids. Hot dogs aren’t poison; they’re just a part of the delicious journey.