Like a lot of my Gen X friends from Oklahoma, I grew up on good, southern cooking and fast food. Our parents didn’t worry about polyunsaturated fats and high fructose corn syrup. My parents were too busy forcing me to be the first of ANYONE I knew to wear my SEATBELT to wonder if the meat I consumed was organic or free range.
Times have changed. Now, my kids will be allowed to vote and go to war before they meet the weight requirements for leaving a car seat. We are a cautious, conflicted society.
I fit right in.
I spend a lot of time worrying about food. I worry…
…if my kids’ food contains toxins (probably some, but I won’t know it for twenty years).
…if they’re getting the right combination of fruits and vegetables (probably not, but they’re not going to grow tails).
…if I’m setting a bad example by indulging in baked goods and wine (probably okay since I heard my son explain to someone this weekend that a Capri Sun was not a Reisling).
Since I have these food fears, snack time can turn my stomach into knots. A few months ago I was beating myself up about not being the perfect Pinterest mama with menus and special drawers containing individually wrapped, healthy snacks within reach of little dimpled hands.
I mean, If I were a super mom, wouldn’t I be feeding my kids something healthy—like sushi?
Probably. But that’s not my superpower.
So, I did the next best thing.
I sliced a banana, globbed on some natural peanut butter, and topped each little piece of art with a Goldfish. Then I placed some kiddie chopsticks on the plate.
Voila! Banana sushi.
Who says my kids don’t eat healthy?
Brandi Barnett is our Blogger of the Month.