The Paradox of Food (my soapbox rant for the day)

Okay, so like all moms, I occasionally feel myself riddled with guilt for not doing all the things I envisioned a perfect mother would do. And considering one of the essential roles I have during each day is to provide some kind of edible substance for my 4 little ones to eat, much of my self-inflicted guilt revolves around food.

In an era in which one of our 200 channels is a network devoted entirely to food, cooking has become much more fashionable than the days of old, and it has become much more accessible to the common middle-class masses. In the "old days" fancy cheeses and gourmet ingredients were difficult to come by, but now we're surrounded by ridiculously large, overstocked grocery stores that offer everything even a gourmet chef at a 5 star restaurant could possibly want or need. And so naturally, I feel both a pressure and a desire to cook fun and fancy foods for the kids. Everything Paula Deen ever invented looks tasty to me, especially since most of her recipes revolve around BUTTER, sugar, salt, and more BUTTER.

But, ahhh, there's the rub. I also am now living in a time when politicians no longer use world peace as their political platform, rather they speak about the dangers of childhood obesity. The Biggest Loser is one of my favorite shows, and every other commercial warns about caloric intake and overly-processed foods. There are now entire aisles at the grocery store dedicated to gluten-free, chemical-free, taste-free items that are guaranteed to make me live forever. So healthy living has been forced into my permanent subconscious. I feel super guilty when I see that all the other kids at school brought organic apples for snacks, and my kid's eating goldfish crackers and a Hershey's kiss I threw in the bag for fun.

So really, there's a paradox. Half of the media is pressuring me to be like Emeril Lagasse, and prepare restaurant quality food at night, but then the other half of the media is berating me to only eat 17 carrot sticks a day (that I've grown myself) and to seriously consider buting and slaughtering my own green-grass fed cow.

In gist, I feel befuddled and insecure about my food choices for my kids which is why I gave up this morning and gave them Eggos for breakfast; nothing baked and tasty like a recipe from the food network, and nothing healthy and fresh like the talk shows and documentaries say I need to buy. I think for now, I'm going to fall back on the old, hey, canned green beans and instant mashed potatoes were good enough for my grandmother, and so they're good enough for my family. (She's 91 by the way, and she loves her some glucose saturated canned peaches, let me tell you...)