The Fat Diaries: Can You Enjoy Halloween Without Candy?
Some of you already know that I’ve been blessed with daughter who doesn’t like most sugary foods. It doesn't matter if it is ice cream, candy, chocolate, pies—with the exception of blueberry muffins and yellow cake with no frosting, my four-year-old has little-to-no interest in sweets.
She would rather have fresh berries, apples, clementine oranges, chilled cucumbers, baked almonds and yogurt (where she leaves all the “fruit on the bottom” untouched).
Most moms would be jumping for joy right now, and don’t get me wrong I’m proud of her no matter what. But being me, I always find myself tugging at threads. Last week I made a lovely batch of Baklava. The boy snatched up the first piece and ate it happily, but lil’ girl said. “No. Can I have an apple?”
Lord knows I fought against it, but as I was saying “sure thing honey,” I knew that an expression of utter disbelief and disappointment crossed my face before I could help it.
Maybe I was disappointed because I had just gotten through wrestling with 40 sheets of filo pastry. Maybe I felt indignant being shut down after a kind gesture. Maybe I was just in shock that she would refuse a dessert—something I wouldn’t have done unless I was dying or dead.
My heart sank as I saw her flinch under my expression; my face was clearly asking her, “what are you from Mars or something?” I kicked myself for it later, and I gave her the reddest crispest coldest apple in the fridge, trying to make amends, but I didn’t have the foresight to fight against my hardwired brain screaming: not like sugar and chocolate? What’s wrong with you? That’s like a kid not liking open flames or not wanting to run around a living room breaking stuff! It’s practically un-American! (And given America’s love of sugar and sweets, that’s a little too accurate).
We know it’s bad for our kids, but for a lot of us moms, that’s how we show love. Our moms and grandmas doted on us kids by making fresh baked cookies, or pastries, or hot chocolate. They were special treats that were a sign that this was something special, something we didn’t get every day. This was another way for them to say “I love you.” My son and husband love it when I go out of my way to make a rare, out-of-the-ordinary treat for them. Seeing them light up is my reward.
Having a daughter that I can’t reach that way is frustrating to me. When she was two I kept trying to introduce her to different kinds of treats, exotic flavors and ingredients, desperately hoping that I could uncover some goodie that I make on her birthday or first day of school to show I loved her. It never worked, and frankly I’m glad it didn’t because she’s better off without it …and in a few years, she’s going to need me nearby to stand by her in this.
I have a grown-up friend who admitted to me that she never liked sweets as a kid. She was teased and called a freak in school until she ate candy and cake at social gatherings just to shut them up—so she could blend in as “normal.” I don’t want my daughter to choke down chocolate because of peer pressure, or feel she has to fit in. I especially don’t want to be a contributor to this mindset.
And that’s not to say she’ll live life totally healthy either. My daughter could probably eat more bacon than a biker gang if I let her. She’ll also eat plain sticks of butter if I don’t watch her closely. I shouldn’t be complacent on that end just because she prefers an orange to a candy bar.
This Halloween all she’s looking forward to is wearing her new Rapunzel dress and maybe getting another set of plastic vampire fangs. To her, there’s nothing special about candy. It’s just that brown junk her brother likes. She prefers getting her fingernails painted, or a pair of hand-knitted house socks, or sitting in a coffee-shop with mommy drinking plain unsweetened hot milk. That can be special too.
If she doesn’t get her vampire fangs, I will buy her a set myself. That’s a sign of love I don’t have to have reservations about.
