I don’t eat seafood — nothing that swims. I rarely eat greens. That means no broccoli, spinach or green beans. Anything that grows is usually out of the question. And I rarely eat meat.
But I love to eat. This is not about weight issues, healthiness or eating disorders. I love what I do actually like. Noodles, chicken (plain, well done, light sauce, hold the veggies), Italian (usually works — add the cheese), frozen yogurt with plenty of toppings (yes, that’s a meal). Simply put, I’m picky, boring and plain with no variation and little color.
The problem? My kids are becoming me. And, when it comes to food, that is not a good thing. I want to do better for them. I don’t want them going through life disliking so many things the way I do. I don’t want them to have to send their dishes back every time they are at a restaurant because they’ve discovered something “yucky” in their food.
I wonder … why did my kids get my genes? Is this even genetic? Or do they sense my foodisms?
My husband is a super eater. There’s very little he won’t try.
Truth is, when it comes to food, I’m overwhelmed. I can’t cook. I don’t want to cook. I love going to the supermarket — I just don’t know what to buy. I wind up leaving with a lot of drinks.
I’m trying to change. I’ve added some new foods to my diet. Tomatoes are actually OK. So are tofu and beans. My older one now likes apple “fries” (thanks to my husband). So now, I have to figure out how to get my kids to keep trying new foods. It only took me 30 years. But if they want seafood, they’ll have to go without me.
– Moms and the City is comprised of Denise Albert, Melissa Gerstein and Raina Seitel Gittlin, three mothers who are also working media professionals. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org.