Letters to the Editor
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Skinny babies
I read this article and thought, "that's it?" It seems like the choices the author has made for her children's diets are quite moderate and normal - nothing earthshaking or article-worthy. However, I remembered that of course many parents have to take everything to the extreme, so that the moderation route begins to seem unusual.
I'm a new mother to a healthy, pleasantly plump baby who we adopted from another country. I love his baby fat, the doctors say he's perfect, and his fat has certainly helped to sustain him through an extended viral illness he suffered from recently. But I have heard many, many other mothers bragging about their "tall, skinny" babies, and proudly mentioning their babies' low weight - people seem to be under the impression that a skinnier baby is better, and that this indicates that they won't be a fat child. I'm thrilled that people have become aware of the health issues of overweight children, but of course it's being taken too far. Babies need extra fat - a skinny baby isn't anything to strive for, and isn't much of an indication of their future child/adult weight. Practically all of the slender adults I know, including myself, were hearty, chubby babies... of course this is just andecdotal evidence, but I haven't seen any genuine scientific evidence that chubby (or heck, even normal-weight!) babies become overweight adults, or that skinny babies stay skinny forever.
And of course there's the refusal of parents to feed their babies solid food until "at least 6 months", like it's something truly awful for a baby to have a bit of rice cereal or bananas at 4 months. I know, I know - FOOD ALLERGIES!!! But really - I think the allergy issue has been seriously overblown, and is more evidence of people imposing their own food issues on their children.
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On fat babies...
A fat baby will have extra fat cells that he or she will have to deal with for the rest of his/her life. Fat cells don't go away, they just shrink. Please don't be so smug about having a fat child...
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to anon
Anonymous - My son isn't "fat" in the "overweight" sense - he's on the upper end of the normal weight range. What I was trying to say is that I feel that some parents have taken their worries about obesity to the extreme, and are perhaps not letting their babies gain a normal and healthy amount of weight, or they feel that the skinnier the baby, the more likely their child won't have a weight problem in the future. Or they worry too much about a baby who is perfectly healthy and naturally chubby - believe me, I have heard all the unpleasant comments about our "huge" baby, and it certainly caused me some anxiety, until I did my own research on the matter.
I guess I am just continually surprised at the extreme amount of concern and anxiety that parents and some members of the medical profession seem to express over babies' diets. Before I suddenly became the parent of a 6-month-old, I thought you basically just fed the baby healthy foods when hungry and that was that... I was blissfully unware of the long list of forbidden foods and the horrors of "baby obesity".
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Let them eat what they want
The greatest gift my parents ever gave me and my brother was letting us eat whatever we wanted. As a result, neither of us has a "relationship with food." We eat, we don't eat, sometimes we eat healthfully, sometimes we eat junk food, but food is something we enjoy, not something we have emotional or neurotic issues about. And, left to our own devices, both of us happily ate an after-school snack of fruit or cereal, while all the snack-food deprived kids in the neighborhood scarfed up all the potato chips, cookies, and candy we had in the house. By not forbidding us certain foods, our parents didn't make these foods disproportionately attractive to us. Also, they never forced us to clean our plates, or to eat anything we didn't like. As long as we tasted it, that was good enough for them.
Oh, and today, we're both slim, healthy adults with wide-ranging tastes and curious palates. And neither of us has ever had to diet. You don't get fat from just eating food. You get fat from feeding your emotions and neuroses.
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the forbidden food
My mother raised me vegetarian, which was very unusual in Russia. Her american friend sent her a "Raising your child vegetarian" guide and cookbook, and, as much as she could find the necessary ingredients in the desolate soviet union grocery store, my mother did her best to provide me with healthy, nutritious meals. She succeeded to the extent that I am still a version of a vegetarian (+fish + dairy + eggs), and I have a consious, reasoned dislike for junkfood.
However, as the author sensibly mentions, my superhealthy home food made my hungry for anything gooey from the bakery, chocolate candy from a classmate's birthday party, or, when I was old enough to spend pocket money in my school cafeteria, these delicious almond and jam pastries. I knew this would be frowned upon, so I bought my own treats in secret.
Whenever my mother and my maternal grandmother saw me eat something that was not home cooked and healthy, they disapproved: either aloud right there and then, or, if the forbidden food was consumed at a party, with their long faces, with a discussion of the incident at home.
[One of the most vivid and negative memories of my grandmother was from my 10th birthday party. It was celebrated with the whole family, and there were lots of treats and sweets on the table that the guests brought. I remember having a piece of something (cake? pizza? icecream? eclair?) and, at my own birthday party! catching my grandmother making very large eye and head shaking motions with her head from across the table. I do not think I have gotten over it yet..]
You can predict what happened next: By the age of 11, I was one of the heavier girls in my class. I was teased. I was called "a wardrobe" by my classmates and some diminutive but offensive names by some family members. Combined with the hormonal whirlwind of puberty, I felt fat and ugly, and hid in black turtlenecks, dreaming of my classmates skinny skirts and elegant necks, while having another cupcake in secret. At 14, I wore jeans that were 2 sizes larger than my mom's.
My family, of course, were upset by my increasing weight, so they started hiding sweets from me. I raided the hiding places while my mom was at work, and lived through the fear and humiliation when it was discovered. Sometimes the pack of candy, hidden in some drawer, would contain a label, thoughtfully appended by my wellmeaning mother, indicating how many candy are remaining. It's not that I was not allowed to have any treats. When we would have tea after dinner, the candy / cookies would be brought out, and I would be given one or two, and then would be told to "stop and control myself". On the surfice, this looks reasonable, but by that point my relationship with food was so warped and out of control, this did not help a bit.
I will skip the unfortunate year i spent as an exchange student with a financially unwell family in the midwest, just mentioning the nightly frozen potpie, pizza, and wonderbread with peanut butter. Sadly, this is what I thought all americans ate all the time. I returned home for the summer with another 10 pounds, and was used as an example of what happens when people eat american junk food.
In college (also in the midwest, but with a lot more choices) my weight went up (the choices!), but then I got it somewhat under control when i discovered the gym. But it was only in the last 4-5 years that I was able to reach the coveted BMI of 24, and be able to understand what I need to do to reach the physical shape that I myself would enjoy. I am not fanatical, I have my ups and downs. But I consider myself rather fortunate for not developing an advanced eating disorder, but I still struggle.
I don't deny myself anything if i really want it, because I remember childhood restrictions all too vividly, and I tell myself that I can be satisfied with just a small piece of that chocolate fudge brownie. But. My body, and my cravings, and the final amount of brownie consumed, is unfortunately not always in accord with my mindful intentions. I am working on it.
I applaud the author for a fair attempt at balance in treating her children, and in placing no grave "laws" about what is appropriate in food. Moderation, and ability to make choices, is an abmirable challenge to master. Thank you for this article.