that mom.

Tonight my sister offered to buy my son candy.

 I said no.

 In front of him.

Miraculously, we avoided a tantrum on a busy city street. Possibly because we were about to eat pizza and he'd just seen a movie. So really, he wasn't having a bad day. But, I realized: I'm THAT mom.

Today I bought the stuff for Daniel's birthday party goodie bags: pencils, erasers and little fake medals. No candy.  They are lucky I'm not planning on putting carrot sticks in there because I'm totally THAT MOM.

Today Lily got a "kid's meal" at a chain restaurant. She picked out chicken tenders, and got to choose applesauce or broccoli.  No fries, no chips, no free dessert.  She happily ate it all up and didn't complain.  A big win for That Mom.

My own mother was that kind of mom too. She made cookies with whole wheat flour and never, ever bought us candy except for 3 times a year (Easter- a chocolate bunny, Halloween -a plastic pumpkin full of junk, and a 1/2 a chocolate bar when we went to see the Nutcracker at Christmastime). It was the 80's after all... and she was a reformed hippie.  There was no Baby Gap. There was no Shake Shack. We wore hand-me-down Osh Kosh corduroy overalls and ate fig newtons and milk after school. There were no goodie bags; there were no "peanut free zones".  Now there is a designer candy shop across the street from our old house. A dark smelly old man penny candy shop it is not. They take credit cards.

Now it's my turn to be the mom who has strict limits on sugar and junk.  I never, ever buy my kids candy. (See here to read about what I have to say about non fair-trade chocolate.) We do have a stash of organic lollipops for "emergencies".  I'm not sure what kind of emergency we might need them for.... we've clearly never had one since the box has been in the cabinet for a year.  (Don't tell Lily!)

One of the reasons we don't buy candy or too many sweets is our own lack of will power. The kids go to bed early, and then it's just me, Andrew and that box of cookies.  Ever had those Trader Joes' cookies? (any of them?).  Yeah... we can't have those in the house.

Another good reason is that my kids' background means that their teeth are pretty weak. The human body has it's own little Darwinian system; during pre-natal and early childhood development if there is a shortage of resources the body will prioritize. Teeth are way down on the bottom the list of importance to the body.  Pre-natal nutrition and health is generally very poor in Ethiopia, and most young children do not get an adequate or consistent supply of calories or nutrients.  So both our children's teeth are already prone to infection, breakage and cavities. So far they've avoided major problems, but we have to be extra careful.

People just love to give kids candy. Or rather, people just love to give other people's children candy.  After all, they don't have to ride in the car all the way home with a toddler coming off a sugar high. They don't have to visit the dentist with them.  Lily comes home from school with birthday party goodie bags filled with sticky, chewy, crunchy sugary things.  It all goes in the garbage (while she's not looking). Then I give her the bag and say, "Look sweetie, your friend gave you a pencil!"  Soon I'll sneak some apple slices in it too.

Because I'm totally That Mom.

Photo taken at a party in which Lily kept getting candy and I kept throwing it out when she wasn't looking.
Sigh... Being That Mom is such hard work!

What I've learned about Hunger

our son, then five years old, trying out a turkey leg

Last night we had a family dinner at a Chinese restaurant. The kind I remember from my childhood, with the burning hot pot of tea on the table and that big bowl of addictive crunchy noodles. Daniel has recently come to live Chinese food; he gorged himself on dumplings and fried rice and veggie delight. And like Eric Carle's caterpillar, that night he had a stomach ache.

Here is what I've learned about hunger. It changes a person, forever.  Being hungry, really hungry, for an extended period of time changes the brain's chemistry.  We are all wired to enjoy food, to seek out the sweetest, most nutrient rich food.  When the body has been denied proper nutrition for too long, the brain goes into a high alert state.  It is thinking, constantly, "food, food, now! food". Even after a person has again had reliable nutrition, the brain's high alert can be triggered, easily.

Our kids have both known hunger.  Our daughter was hungry for the first 8 months of her life.  Our son was probably hungry for much of his early life too- such is the fate of most rural Ethiopians.  They eat once a day if they are lucky, and never eat enough to feel full, except maybe during harvest days.

Getting enough to eat is a daily struggle for our Ethiopian family. They are all thin. They are all tiny.

Now our children are home, and they have more than enough to eat. They are Americans, after all.  But they have been changed by hunger.

Our son saw a pumpkin for sale and demanded that we eat it, now. Or at least make a pie. Food is not for art projects. It is food.

When they are hungry, even just a little hungry, their brains go into high alert. Food! Now! Food! Now! They cry, they wail, they scream.  They are starving again, and for them it is oh so very real.

We don't go anywhere without packing snacks. We don't go to the grocery store without packing snacks.  We don't drive without a snack for the car, and I always save a snack for the drive home.  We eat every couple of hours, no matter what.

I never say, oh, let's just wait til we get there. I never say, you'll be okay til we get to the restaurant. You might think, she's soon going to have obese children! But most of the time, a handful of raisins or a 1/2 a granola bar suffices. The brain is quieted.  It has avoided starvation, again.

It is easy for me to help my children recover from and manage their food insecurity. Imagine, though, an entire village, a region, a nation of people who have been hungry, who have nearly starved. Imagine how their brains will always, always, be on the alert for danger.  Imagine how difficult it would be for members of these communities to grow and trust and take risks.  Imagine how easily it would be for corrupt, power hungry leaders to trick their people.  Imagine how challenging it would be to live in an abundant world when you have know such scarcity.

I wish I could say that I have been changed by hunger too. That I never eat too much, that I savor every bite. That I never eat a handful of cookies just because I'm stressed out. I do. I'm still working on my own years in the making (sometimes poor) eating habits and chocolate addiction. But do I think about our Ethiopian family whenever I have to throw out food that simply been in the fridge too long? Yes. Every time.

Lily

LILY.

Just in case you thought I only write about my son...

Here is our girl...

 Smart. Mischievious. Silly.

 Curious. Lively. Fun-loving.

 Wild. Loud. Unpredictable.

 Lovely.

 GIRL.

 Our baby, soon to be our Big Girl. 

 Obsessed with shoes, phones and her brother.

 There are lots of unknowns and unpredictables in international adoption. 

Lily was our suprise in many ways. First, it was a beautiful surprise to be matched with such a young child, when we expected to be referred older children. Second, she is extremely healthy and robust, now weighing in at 30 lbs at 2 years old.

Like I said, she's got a taste for rocks and other non-food items. 

Maybe it's because for the first 6 months of her life, she was always hungry. Starving.

 Our first snuggle together. Look how unsure she is of this whole "Mommy" thing. 

She was 15 months old, and for most of her life, her only family was her brother. 

 One year old. Playing with her nannies at the care center. 

Happy as can be, now that she's got as much milk as she can drink. 

Our Lily. Our first photo of her. At 7 months old, she weighed only 8 pounds. In her referral the nannies wrote that she never stopped crying. Good for her, I thought. The silent children are the ones who have given up.  Lily is a fighter. She knew that someone, somewhere, would finally answer those cries. She will never be ignored, and she'll never be hungry again.