Selfish in a Box

I am sitting here sharing a box of Sour Patch Kids with Levi. Candy is a guilty pleasure that I rarely allow my kiddos. They eat a lot of fruit, veggies, and whole grain snacks. My mom raised us that way. "What can I have to drink?" was always met with "Water or milk." My grandma still insists to this day that my sisters and I used to frisk her for candy when she came in the door of our house, because we were so candy deprived. Pop was a rare luxury saved for restaurants - one glass about once each month. Sweet cereals were saved for camping vacations when the variety pack of mini cereal boxes was busted out, and we all had to fight over who got the Lucky Charms. Of course, by day 3 all that was left were the Honey Nut Cheerios, and the real vacation (the one from shredded wheat, Grape Nuts, and oat meal) was officially over. My dad will mostly likely be reading this, and he will be disappointed if I don't mention the fact that when we went to McDonald's (which was a rare treat) he bought us each a hamburger, and then he made me and my two sisters share a box of french fries and a drink. He often wondered aloud why my sisters and I fought "like cats and dogs". I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that sugar deprivation and the resulting serotonin deficiency combined with the fry-sharing and fighting over the once-a-year tiny boxes of sweet cereal created an atmosphere that was less conducive to sisterly love and more conducive to fighting like wolf pups over a rabbit carcass. You do the math.

I think it's interesting how I swore I would never be like my parents, but I tend toward those ways of rationing certain types of food. I can look back and understand that it was done for my good - just like I am trying to do with my own children. I think mom and dad were hoping (as I do for my kids) that someday - a constant diet of nutritious food would result in an appetite for good things that would never go away. As my Sour Patch Kids binge would indicate, this may not have gone as planned. Don't get me wrong, my body loves healthy food, and I feel better inside and out when I eat it. It doesn't diminish the fact that I want greasy burgers, cheese fries, and Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. It almost seems worth the $4.50 a pint sometimes. My body has developed an appetite for nutritious food, but my taste buds sadly have not followed suit.

As I go through photos of my children, the only ones with them eating are with a cookie or lollypop. I guess they're more likely to smile when eating certain things. The carrot sticks and apple peels just don't bring out that smile. I guess they're called "cheesy" grins for a reason.

As Levi and I were eating the box of Sour Patch Kids I noticed I was only giving him the greens and yellows. With any luck, we'll get well past his 4th birthday before he even realizes there are oranges or reds. He doesn't mind, because candy's candy at this point, and when regularly deprived of sugar, sugar-induced delirium is a common outcome. This is clearly my own selfishness at work. I also keep pop in the garage that the children are allowed to look at but not touch. I love to grocery shop alone so that I can, on occasion, purchase a bag of Keebler's frosted animal cookies - the ones with sprinkles. Then I can hide them somewhere in the refrigerator and never have to share them. I know how my kids would love these, but they'll be 32 someday, and then they can buy their own.

I also have to be careful that I am not offering my children healthy foods but setting a bad example by eating mostly what is bad for me - the, "Do as I say not as I do," mentality. This is both a physical and spiritual concept, and, as I notice quite painfully sometimes, they are watching me.

I know that, were I to eat how I feed my children, I would probably be significantly healthier and less "well-rounded". The parallel to the rest of my life is obvious. My parents also fed me other good things when I was growing up - things like church, Bible reading, prayer, and right living. They undoubtedly hoped that feeding me these things would give me a healthy appetite for things that would be good for me. The bottom line is, I had to eventually choose those things for myself. I got to an age where no one was going to offer only those things to me anymore; I had to decide that I wanted them. For me, this didn't happen immediately - not without bingeing on the "junk food" of which I had been deprived first. After seeing that those things taste good for a time but carry with them a bitter aftertaste that sometimes lasts forever, I have had to choose to feed myself with good things. I was hoping that my body would develop more of an appetite for those things over time, and it has somewhat. Just like with my physical body - I feel better inside and out when I feed my spirit well. However, I would still much rather sleep in or watch a good movie than go to church some days. I would rather go to bed early than get my Bible out to read it. This just proves that what my flesh wants will never go away. It will still call to me like bacon bits at a salad bar.

My grandparents have discovered in their older age that healthy food doesn't just taste good and help you feel better... it is necessary for LIFE. They wouldn't go on living if they didn't eat right and take care of their physical bodies. Maybe sometimes this sense comes with age - or with the increasing probability of death. Whatever it is - it's the same with our emotional and spiritual health. "Religion" (or as I like to think of it - a relationship with our Creator) isn't just for old people. Old people just got smarter. It takes many of us a long time to appreciate the fact that some things are better for our well-being or even necessary for life.

Levi just came back and asked, "Can I have a little more of your snack, please?" I replied, "It's all gone." He said, "Can I check in your mouth a little bit?" As I opened up for inspection, I realized that, aside from the fact he doesn't seem particularly averse to eating regurgitated food - his own or, apparently, someone else's - it's okay for me to deprive my children of some foods for their own good. I'm not shoving carrot sticks down their throats or giving them tomato juice intravenously. I'm not forcing them to read their Bible or get on their knees each night to pray. I'm just offering them healthy choices. Despite my teasing of my parents, I'm a healthier person today because of the healthy choices they offered me - physically and spiritually. It helped me to realize that it was possible to live without Zingers and R-rated movies and that it feels very good to be healthy. I was bequeathed more than a good immune system, a strong body, and a shiny coat - I was given a chance at a different way of life. I was given not only the love of my parents but the love of One greater than my own flesh and blood. Maybe I've never said this to them before, but, "Thanks for the shredded wheat."