I am sitting at my kitchen table watching my boys and some family friends play in the pool.  Four teens, throwing water footballs and laying on foam noodles.  Laughter abounds and the sun is bright yet brutal.  Summer is officially here.

Frat house at my house

This season is staying up late, sleeping in, and endless “hangs” with the guys.  It’s relaxed schedules and no Sunday night discussions of what the week holds.  Mornings are temporarily suspended from meticulously packing lunches with plenty of protein, carbs and produce.  While this sounds heavenly after a tightly wound school year, it also looks a little like a frat house (credit Jen Hatmaker for this genius comparison).

For three months, most daytime meals are “fend for yourself.”  The school year gives me control and peace knowing they are getting a fairly balanced meal. In this summer season, the go-to lunch right now is make-your-own-cheeseburgers or ham on Hawaiian rolls.

My kids will heat up a pre-cooked hamburger or turkey patty and slap a bun on it.  My carb-o-licious kid is thrilled to have Annie’s Mac & Cheese (I have somehow fooled myself into thinking both are healthier because either the bun is whole wheat or the powder isn’t neon). They both love the melt-in-your-mouth King’s Hawaiian rolls I only buy in the summer.

Parenting macro- or micro-manage?

This is where my struggle(s) come in.  The micro-manager-nutritionist-wanna-be in me wants to step in and throw some carrots or snap peas on their plate.  Have some strawberries with that, too.  And maybe some almonds or string cheese?  Oh you are definitely eating your Brussels sprouts with dinner, mister.  

Lest you think we have a perfect nutritional household, I assure you we do not.   As I wrote here, I struggle daily with sandwiching my healthy meals between junk and crap.  My freezer holds Blue Bell Mint Chocolate Chip, Thin Mints and frozen popsicles.  The pantry shelves are stocked with M&Ms, Hawaiian Rolls, graham crackers and of course my beloved Dove Chocolate squares.  

My people consume all of these and more.  And while I cringe at the sugar content of the Carnation Instant Breakfast that is dumped into a glass every. single. morning, I justify it by the protein and calcium that it is paired with in the milk.  Right or wrong, that’s how I make peace with it.

I also must confess that I occasionally snack on M&M’s as I type so I can’t even get that upset when they pull out items with zero nutritional value to snack on.  Sigh.  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I suppose. 

What’s the long-term effect of my “education?”

I have yet to speak to a mom who doesn’t want her child to develop healthy lifelong eating habits and have a positive body image.  While these are two separate desires, often they are intertwined so tightly that it’s difficult to discern where each begins and ends.    

What gives me gray hair in my own personal mom-space is this:  Does the nutritional education I often give (or enforce) help or hurt my kids in the long run?  

Sure, I can preach the vices of sugar and the virtues of asparagus.  I can do my darndest to provide nutritious items for meals and snacks.  I push water and limit sodas.  

But are they so tired of hearing about how bad sugar is for them that once gain freedom with a driver’s license, will they stop for Sonic slushies and Starburst every chance they get?  When they pack up for college and are tempted with residence hall buffets and 2 am Pizza Shuttle, what choice will they make?

And then there’s the body image issue…

As if having discussions about healthy choices isn’t difficult enough, then we have to pair them with making sure we don’t create body image issues.  

It is a fine, delicate line telling impressionable children that if they eat too much, their unhealthy decisions will result in becoming overweight — which holds a host of its own health issues.  We don’t want them to be ashamed of sporting an extra belly roll or muffin top, especially as their bodies are growing and adjusting.  

On the flip side, we don’t want them to be so fearful of putting on a little padding that they won’t enjoy the pure pleasure of a summer ice cream party or candy in their camp care package.    

It’s a twisted battle, and I feel like I am fighting blind with no idea how I’m doing until it’s over. 

I get glimpses of hope.  One child always looks for a fruit to pair with his burger.  The other learned a hard lesson that hot dogs are not great fuel before track practice.  The next day he thoughtfully chose a more nutritious lunch to avoid side stitches.  

But then I’ll turn around the next day and they will play my husband and I, tricking us both into letting them have a big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream.  Rascals.   

I take opportunities to preach teach discuss moderation.  I try to teach the “why” behind my decisions and gently point how they feel when they have indulged too much.  My boys know they can have a few squares of Dove chocolate a day. I’m not bothered when my guitar-playing son hits the candy basket after (and before) his lessons. Heck, I even dig in there myself looking for Tootsie Rolls (what is it about those that I love so much?)  

I have no idea if these discussions will be effective long-term.  Should I be more restrictive or more easy-going?  Probably both.

It’s a process

I also must remind myself that taking ownership of one’s health is a process.  When I was 12, I certainly didn’t reach for red peppers and hummus as a snack, or order a salad at a restaurant.  

It has been a gradual journey of learning, exploring new foods and application.  I must give my children the grace and freedom to take their own health path.

I pray that one day, they come out on the other side of adulthood with a balanced sense of nutrition, exercise, and positive self-image.   And maybe, if I’m lucky, they’ll gobble up Brussels sprouts.

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