The Fat Diaries: It's a Struggle Keeping Out Bad Influences

My kids are finally reaching that age where I’m not involved in every aspect of their life. A few years ago I decided what they ate for breakfast lunch and dinner. I came up with, or at least supervised every activity they pursued. I enforced good manners from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed. That is no longer the case.

My oldest, for example, climbs into a bus every afternoon where he’s shuttled to a classroom full of kids I’ve never met under the supervision of a woman I’ve met twice and exchanged 10 words with. I’m not actually sure whether my son does this since I’ve overseen no part of it. For all I know he just stands in the hallway looking at the artwork until it’s time to go home. I take it on faith that the school knows what it’s doing.

There has now emerged a new area of my kids’ life where I’m suddenly a non-entity: the best friend’s house. A neighborhood kid has befriended my small fry to the point where scarcely a single day passes without interaction.

He’s fast becoming a “Fonzie-like” character sliding in at all hours and demanding our attention. Friendship is a good skill for kids, so I encourage them to hang out with Fonzie on the playground or on our porch with the chalk bucket. It’s when Fonzie wants my kids to visit his house that I get a little antsy.

Let’s say first off that I’m not impressed with his folks’ idea of “parental supervision” (i.e.: that there doesn’t need to be any). But if that weren’t enough, the food at Fonzie’s house is just as scary. My kids came home covered in chocolate crumbs and cheese dust and I got to hear what they’d been eating all afternoon. The bill of fare was vast quantities of soda topped off with Doritos, Oreos, candy, donuts and (shudder) cold uncooked hotdogs.

Maybe if it was a birthday party I would have let this slide, but I found out quickly that this was a typical afternoon snack at Fonzie’s house. I’d like to point out that while Fonzie seems to be of a healthy weight and size, his older siblings and parents are obese.

It’s not just Fonzie’s house with this problem. From what I’ve seen, the kids in my neighborhood live on soda, processed snacks and other high-sodium, high-calorie foodstuffs with little-to-no nutritional value. Almost every kid over the age of 9 is obese.

Needless to say, I’ve discouraged my kids from going to Fonzie’s house and we now meet in neutral territory like the playground. This solved the junk food problem— or so I thought.

So what do you do when the Fonzie, with his angelic smile and only generosity in his heart, jogs to your doorstep and holds up two luke-warm cans of cola? He asks, “Would [boy] and [girl] like one?” to your kids and you know that saying “we don’t drink soda” would break his heart (provided he understands the premise that there are people who DON’T drink Inca Cola every 4 hours). I also realized that friendship is important to my kids and little acts like this teach them big lessons in generosity and community and sharing.

I caved. I said, “Sure! Let me get some cups and ice!” and divided up the teeniest portions I can (conveniently leaving one can unopened). I can control some things, and some things I need to let slide. Sometimes I need to realize that one cup of soda in a blue moon won’t kill my kids (especially if it’s only 3 oz of soda and a LOT of ice). Friends are important.

I needn’t have worried; my kids didn’t like the soda and asked me for some water instead. Fonzie asked if he could have water too. Sure thing, Fonzie. “Ayyyyy!”