From the moment my daughter was on solids I was determined she would be provided with a healthy, well balanced diet. While there were many mums out there giving their babies cakes, biscuits and chips I would only offer my baby fruit, veggies, meats, yoghurt, breads, cheese etc. Over time, I gradually introduced a bit of margarine and some of the dry biscuits. I sometimes wondered if I should even be doing this but still felt pretty good about the diet my daughter was receiving. Strangers, family and friends often tried to hand her a sweet biscuit, chocolate or lolly but I was very proud of myself for refusing the offers. My daughter never asked for any of those things, in fact she seemed completely uninterested in them, and I thought it was great she ate so well.
My ultimate goal was for my daughter to remain blissfully unaware of the sugary delight that is cake until she turned two. It was a noble aspiration, a parent’s quiet stand against the inevitable tide of confectionary. But alas, at just twenty-two months of age, my resolve crumbled. I didn’t make the grade.
Our downfall began innocently enough. Today, we went to the library for our usual story time, an event my little one always adores. However, today was a special occasion. The library was launching a new parenting collection, and they were celebrating with a morning tea and a talk by a prominent children’s illustrator. Princess Toddler was in her element, having a wonderful time listening to a lively rendition of ‘Five Little Ducks,’ enthusiastically copying all the hand movements from the story being read to her, and proudly crafting her own ‘baby in a bath’ during the art session. Just as I was basking in the wholesome glow of it all, the librarian made a fateful announcement: the magnificent Humpty Dumpty cake would be cut up for the kids.
Princess Toddler and I had just finished our story time adventure at the library, a pile of colorful books stacked in my arms. We made our way to the front counter to check them out, a routine I knew well. Normally, she’d be engrossed in the book covers, oblivious to the tempting array of sugary treats strategically placed by the checkout. But not today. Today was different.
“Cake,” she whispered, her little finger pointing towards a chocolate muffin. “Cake.”
I pretended not to hear, busying myself with our library cards. Then she said it again, a little louder this time, her eyes wide as she watched a child next to us happily munching away on a cookie. “Yes, cake,” I acknowledged distractedly, hoping that would be the end of it as we finished borrowing our books.
But then came the third, more insistent, “Cake, cake!” I looked down at her hopeful face and realized I was at a crossroads. It was time to make THE DECISION. Do I say no, potentially turning cake into a forbidden fruit and making her want it even more? Or do I give in and buy her the muffin, risking the development of a sweet tooth that craves sugar over healthier options? It felt like a monumental choice for such a small moment.
Well, I decided on the first option. I went back inside, took a piece of cake, and guiltily handed it to her. I watched as she enjoyed scoffing the entire piece, icing and all. As a final attempt at redemption I then gave her a strawberry from the adults’ fruit platter. But it was cold comfort. It felt like my first real failure to be the parent I want to be. Have I caved in to societal pressure? Will my daughter crave sugary food from now on? Will she be demanding lollies at the supermarket checkout instead of asking for a piece of bread? Am I setting up for future poor eating habits so many of us follow today? Should I have handled it differently?
All these thoughts run through my mind. But I’m hanging on to the hope that it was a good sign she asked for another strawberry, instead of more cake, as we left the library. I guess only time will tell now.