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By Rhona Canoy

SO… With all the holiday food beginning to make their photographic (and sometimes cinematic) appearance on our social media feeds, I got to wondering about how unhealthy we are going to get, through the season. Actually, the wondering stops with me because I know that although my caloric intake is through the roof, my nutritional status leaves much to be desired.

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All these times I’ve been ranting about how parenting has gotten out of focus, I didn’t pay hardly any attention to the kinds of food our youngsters are eating, and how much parents don’t pay attention. I mean, let’s face it. Fastfood outlets make millions on our lazy decisions for nutrition. I was just reading the latest DOH report on malnutrition. For some reason, people equate this to overly thin, underdeveloped children. After all, parents of those in my generation grew up with guilt trips founded on the hungry millions in Biafra. For those of you who are ignorant of the subject, please take time to Google it. That catastrophe was horrific.

Getting back on track. We assume that because we see all these chubby, hyperactive children who we assume belong to at least middle-class families, they are healthy and well-nutritioned. We couldn’t be farther from the truth. For the most part, we assume they’re healthy because they don’t get sick as often. We assume they’re healthy because they look so alive and active. But have we ever paid attention to what they put into their bodies? I think that we should because we adults are the ones who allow those mostly empty or useless calorie entries into the tiny mouths.

How many of you can honestly say that your kids like to eat fresh fruits and vegetables? I lucked out because my daughter loved them. In her childhood, that is. My mom had a lot to do with that. They often went halfsies on solo papayas, apples, bananas, avocados, mangoes and whatever fruit items mom brought home. I can’t take any credit for that because, given any sort of choice, I load up on mangoes more than anything and the occasional banana because there’s nothing else. And the baby girl loved the taste of squash cooked in coconut milk. Actually, I was blessed with a non-picky eater.

Now, let me digress for a few lines here. What the heck? Since when did we adults start catering to “picky eaters”? I can’t remember in my childhood anybody asking me what I wanted to eat, nor having the spoiled attitude to say “I don’t want to eat that.” If we didn’t like the food on the table, we went to bed hungry. Believe me, any child who had illusions of being a picky eater got over it in a hurry, faced with a lot of hunger. Maybe parents should try that, at least once. Kids aren’t going to die or get sick if they miss a meal. Try the “eat it or go without” strategy and see if it works.

Back to business. We big people really aren’t helping much. The convenience of providing a meal without ever having to leave the comfort of your vehicle has certainly added to the problem. Even the thought of parking your car and walking the few meters to the fast-food store is too much for us? No wonder there are more and more overweight people around. And I count myself among this fat-ass group, so don’t ride me. This is where I can’t walk the talk. And we don’t even know what passes as food there. I know those french fries are fake. I wonder why the meat patties in the burgers taste like cardboard when they’re no longer hot. And I don’t know what else they put in the meat. I know the buns are unhealthy white bread. And I don’t even want to know how much sugar is in the soft-serve ice cream.

That is what our kids eat. My grandson is one of them. All he eats are chicken fillets and french fries. He doesn’t eat vegetables, even if you had to force it down his throat. I don’t know where my daughter took a left turn to the dark side. And I don’t know just how much growth hormones are in that chicken which he loves so much. Nor do I know how it will affect him if it hasn’t already. And there’s pizza. He’ll eat pizza if there’s nothing else. But all that grease and processed meats on there doesn’t help much. He won’t eat the rare veggies that find their way into the pizza topping. At least, he doesn’t drink soda. Or at least, if he’s told he can’t have soft drinks, he doesn’t erupt into a wildman tantrum. He likes juice, and he’ll eat fruit. And he drinks lots and lots of water. Thank God for that.

Our pediatricians spend so much time trying to heal our sick children that oftentimes, they forget to check on how healthy these kids truly are. Or aren’t. I wonder if we could take a pro-active approach to keeping our children well. Instead of feeling secure because we have good pediatricians who will heal them, we should make the kiddie doctors’ job easier by asking their advice on how to make and keep our children healthy. Babies eat a lot of healthy food because that’s what Gerber mashes up into those bottles. Veggies, fruits, some meat, some fish. But then…. but then… milk formula and powdered milk all have sugar in them. Chocolate milk has lots of sugar in it. That doesn’t bode well for our kids since sugar is highly addictive.

I don’t know where I’m going with this rambling thought. I’m just worried that we may never wake up from all this denial. And, I wonder if it’s too late to turn our kids’ taste buds around to the healthier (though needing more work) stuff. I know that I struggle with it every day. My brain will tell me to eat a healthy salad with my steak. But then the demons in my belly will tell me to slather butter and whole-fat cream on my mashed potatoes.

Take lots of pictures of your holiday feast table. Then post them on social media after January 1, when the whole world once again resolves to lose weight for the coming year. It’s a struggle, and that’s the truth. It’s a health war we pretend to fight, and that’s the truth. It’s no secret that we’re losing, and that’s the hardest truth of all.

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