In other news, I'm trying to get my kids to eat healthy. Until now, I haven't gotten on the healthy eating bandwagon. I mean, I've always had the boys eat apples and grapes as snacks, and fixed a vegetable with dinner (although, admittedly, it was often mashed potatoes.)
But I didn't take it to extremes because so many people already do. They'll make crazy statements such as: "When my kids come home from trick-or-treating, I throw their candy in the trash!"
And I'm like, "You're making some real memories there. (And don't think those memories won't bite 'ya in your skinny butt when your kids grow up.)"
But apparently America's children face a wee bit of an obesity epidemic. Actually, a really big one. So I'm trying to pass on some healthy eating habits to the whole family.
Richie is the easy one. They had a half day yesterday. I offered the boys a roast beef sandwich, and he said, "No thanks. Beef is bad for the world."
He must have learned that at school. I love beef, but I can't argue that it has its bad points.
"How about some white fish?" I asked.
So he ate a plate of baked fish for lunch.
Johnny, on the other hand, is a huge meat lover. I mean, we live in Barbeque Land. He has a vegetarian in his class, and it is such an anomaly to him that he brings it up at least once a week as dinner conversation.
"Olivia would not like this dinner!" he'll say as he chews a huge bite of pot roast.
For J.J., the whole health concept is rocking his world. I've been telling him things like, "You know what's good for your tummy? Apples, grapes, carrots, oatmeal..."
And he's like: "Do you know what's good for my tummy? Cookies!"
I'm like, "Um, not really."
And he's like. "Cookies are good for my neck."
We haven't given up cookies, by the way. I think if you grow up in America without cookies, you feel like a deprived child. Heart healthy...but deprived.
The key is to add, not take away. (Which might explain why my own diet isn't working.) So we're adding fruits and vegetables.
Here's a bad sign of how I didn't do this enough in the past. I put a pile of fresh spinich in a pan to cook it, and J.J. said, "No, you don't eat that. Those are leaves."
And then he said, "We don't eat carrots. Bunnies eat carrots."
But we actually do eat carrots. It's one of those veggies you always have on hand. I guess whenever I put it on his plate, he thinks I'm confused. "You're a bunny right? Oh, wait, no, you're a boy."
I've got a lot of work to do to impart health knowledge to my children. But I think I'm making some headway. J.J. just said, "That's enough time on the computer, mom." Maybe one day, they'll throw away my Halloween candy. (Hey, hands off, kids.)