Candy Makes You Not So Dandy
We're more than two weeks past Halloween, which, if you have little kids and took them Trick or Treating, you likely find yourself along the candy consumption spectrum somewhere between "completely consumed (with some parental assistance)" or "hardly consumed and essentially forgotten about." Our household is probably somewhere in the middle, trending a little closer to the "essentially forgotten about", or so I like to tell myself until my kids remind me that they still have a bunch of Halloween treats yet to be consumed.
We've had a busy fall, and I found myself having a hard time getting into the Halloween Spirit, which is unfortunate because my wife has become widely renowned for her ability to put together family themed costumes. I actually thought there was a chance we would get out of taking our kids Trick-or-Treating, as Halloween fell on a Tuesday night, the same night our girls have dance class. Apparently though, the prospect of getting free candy trumps the importance of having kids honor their prior commitments, or the ones us parents have signed them up for. I'll refrain from my customary rant on what seems to be the arbitrariness of why we send our kids to collect candy on Halloween. Likely from at least a few strangers, something we've repeated told them not to do, and in disguise no less. October 31st does sound eerily reminiscent of another approaching holiday that has religious roots, but has, in my opinion, gone full blown secular.
I don't want to necessarily come across as a huge Halloween Humbug. I have very fond memories of my own Trick-or-Treating adventures growing up - of course the Halloween blizzard of 1991, which is referenced at least a dozen times each year. But again, when you become a parent, you look at most things through your parental lens. I probably wouldn't be so hesitant to allow my kids to collect excessive amounts of candy on the last day of October if it didn't seem, at least to me, that Halloween could exist nearly every single day for a kid. The USDA estimates that the average child under the age of 12 will eat about 49 pounds of sugar each year, which more than half what the average 12 year old weighs.
While the exact effects of sugar consumption are certainly debatable, it's widely accepted that too much is bad and we (the Royal We) eat too much. I think you'd be hard pressed to find a parent who could tell you with a straight face that they don't think their kid eats too much sugar. Even those health-nut parents who feed their kids nothing but kale and quinoa. The problem is that we live in a world that is essentially coated in sugar, and kids are sugar magnets. Whether it is the grocery store^, the bank, or even the post office (the post office!), I can hardly take my kids anywhere without them being accosted by "well-intentioned" adults (likely with their own kids) offering them free suckers or cookies. Even when I try to teach my kids a little altruism, by bringing food to our local food shelf or delivering meals to homebound elderly, they usually leave with fistfuls of sugary treats. And if a 90 year old grandma offers your kids some candy, no matter how far it is past its expiration date, it can be tough to say no.
Of course I've been complicit in my own pouring of some sugar on my kids, and not necessarily in the name of love. I've resorted to using candy and treats as bribes to my kids for a variety of reasons, the most counter-intuitive likely being giving them suckers to keep them occupied while I take them for a run in the stroller. On more than one occasion I've pulled out the ice cream or the candy bucket in attempt to stave off an oncoming nap too late in the afternoon. Mornings though, tend to be my most vulnerable. When your primary goal is getting everyone out the door with as few tears as possible, allowing your kid to consume sugar-laden cereals or toast with 4 servings of jelly per piece* seems like a battle not worth fighting. This morning, I actually allowed my kids to have a Reese's peanut butter cup as part of their breakfast - my compromise to discourage them from eating it last night at 7pm when it was given to them by (someone else's) grandpa. I figured it's essentially peanut butter toast with chocolate taking the place of the toasted bread.
We all probably want our kids to eat healthier, and some of us (probably most of you, not so much me) do a great job of feeding our kids healthy, well balanced meals and snacks. I'm guessing you've also seen the aftermath of when our kids have overindulged on too much sugar (or too much screen time). It's not pretty, and can be eerily reminiscent of the belligerent drunk. But rewarding (or bribing) your kid with candy (or screen time) can be such an easy out, and unfortunately, we parents don't make it any easier on ourselves. Once your kid sees my kid consuming a lollipop the size of his head, they are obviously going to want one too, and will probably throw themselves on the floor kicking and screaming until you eventually give in. Well, you might not give in, but I would - hence the reason my kid would have the massive lollipop in the first place. Not surprising then that cases of juvenile Type 2 diabetes (the preventable kind) have risen at almost a 5% yearly increase since 2000. Or that the number of cavities in kids age 2-5 increased by 17% from the late 1980s to the early 2000s.
This doesn't mean that we don't try to exterminate the sugar bugs, or at least keep them at bay. We convinced our kids to take a bulk of their excess Halloween candy to a "candy buy back", where kids could get a dollar per pound of candy they brought in. Providing some incentive for your kids to part with some of their sugary booty for some actually coins seems good in theory. But as I watched the bed of a full size pick-up truck being filled with taffy, Bit o' Honeys, and every other type of candy kids don't like, I couldn't help but think that maybe such events wouldn't be necessary if we just didn't give so much to the kids to begin with. I'm not so sure most of the kids even understood the main premise behind the "buy back", as our 4 year old wondered aloud why they were only giving out free toothbrushes and not treats. Of course I did my own candy promulgation when I used the collection of candy my kids received from various Halloween celebrations earlier in the week to hand out to the Trick-or-Treaters who came to our door on Halloween. I made absolutely zero attempt to hide the fact from my own kids that I was doing this, just as I've made it no secret that any remaining candy will be going in our daughter's birthday pinata this weekend.
Deep down we'd probably all like to be that parent, and wish every other parent would be that parent too, that doesn't bring in birthday cupcakes for class snack time or can host a family friendly bonfire that doesn't require the making of S'More's (or just the straight consumption of chocolate and marshmallows like my kids do). A few days before Halloween, I heard a radio ad from Trader Joe's suggesting that people hand out their all natural, anti-plaque toothpaste. The ad made the unsubstantiated claim that four out of five parents prefer toothpaste to candy, but I would hypothesize if you actually conducted some scientific research, that percentage might be higher. Despite this, it can be really hard to bring ourselves to actually do it, even if we know that other parents would likely be appreciative (and hopefully want to follow suit). Not surprisingly, my suggestion last year to dress oranges up as Jack-o-Laterns for Halloween treats for our girls' dance classes was met with considerable eye-rolling.
In attempt to make myself feel somewhat better about my choices, I've certainly been duped by the marketing and gone for treats that sound healthy, or could be construed as healthy. This year I noticed that the packaging of a Ring Pop lets you know that it is both nut and gluten free, as though it is some sort of healthier alternative to other products that contain either or both of those things. Spoiler alert though, organic fruit snacks have the exact same nutritional value as those classic dinos and sharks (or the Scoody Doo fruit snacks we gave out this year). You can also always opt for a non-food item, like those plastic spider rings, temporary tattoos or anything else from the Oriental Trading post that has a 110% chance of ending up in the garbage. At a certain point I find myself having zero qualms even throwing away any candy that remains in our house due to either our kid's bad behavior or them just seeming to have forgotten about it.
Obviously if you can keep the candy out of your house, you decrease their ability to consume it, at least when they are in your presence of course. But like most acceptable behavior we want our kids to engage in, if we don't model that behavior ourselves, we can't expect much from them. A few years ago, someone told me that they do "no treats" November to combat the prevalence of sugar-filled holidays this time of year. It seemed like a wise, if not masochistic, undertaking, so this year my wife and I are giving it a whirl. I tell you this not to try and impress you, but so that if we happen to find ourselves in each other's company, and I'm housing a bag of family size Peanut Butter M&Ms, you'll call me on my shit. While public shaming might not always work, I could certainly see it being warranted in my case.
Personally, cutting back my own sugar consumption has become a necessary evil as I've aged and my #dadbod has become more prolific. I have a pretty serious sweet tooth, as exhibited by the abundance of a particular precious metal in my mouth. Eating sugar laden things becomes a slippery slope for me, and I've found that it is easier for me to abstain completely, then to try to limit myself, which ultimately turns into consuming the entire row of Oreos. I can't pretend that I'll be able to, or want to, cut out all of the sugar from my diet, or that using natural sweeteners like honey or maple syrup instead are inherently any better for my health. And while we can have a complex, and somewhat unnecessary, conversation about the merits of agricultural price supports, as doctor and author James Hamblin points out in his book, If Our Bodies Could Talk, he's never heard of anyone using US ag policy as a basis for a diet.
Hopefully, beyond any potential health benefits that I might (conceivably) gain from trying to limit my own sugar intake, my kids might pick up on some healthier eating habits too. It's unrealistic to assume that we'll become a sugar free household, and I'll still do my fair share of giving them sugar to keep them awake when I should have been more forceful about making them nap earlier in the day. But hopefully, when they offer me a bite of their ice cream, and I routinely tell them I can't, it will resonate after a while. Or I suppose they'll just stop trying to be generous. If anything, trying not to eat sweets myself while limit the number of times I suggest to the kids that we head to the bakery for donuts, or go to the Dairy Queen to make use of the free ice cream cone certificates they got from the local police for wearing their bike helmets. It may also mean that if you come over to our house for dinner, we might not be serving a customary dessert. I'll completely understand if you want to decline any future invitations.
^Aldi being the exception of course, which is another reason why I f#@&ing love that place.
Off to solve the mystery of how my kids ended up with so much candy this year. |
I don't want to necessarily come across as a huge Halloween Humbug. I have very fond memories of my own Trick-or-Treating adventures growing up - of course the Halloween blizzard of 1991, which is referenced at least a dozen times each year. But again, when you become a parent, you look at most things through your parental lens. I probably wouldn't be so hesitant to allow my kids to collect excessive amounts of candy on the last day of October if it didn't seem, at least to me, that Halloween could exist nearly every single day for a kid. The USDA estimates that the average child under the age of 12 will eat about 49 pounds of sugar each year, which more than half what the average 12 year old weighs.
While the exact effects of sugar consumption are certainly debatable, it's widely accepted that too much is bad and we (the Royal We) eat too much. I think you'd be hard pressed to find a parent who could tell you with a straight face that they don't think their kid eats too much sugar. Even those health-nut parents who feed their kids nothing but kale and quinoa. The problem is that we live in a world that is essentially coated in sugar, and kids are sugar magnets. Whether it is the grocery store^, the bank, or even the post office (the post office!), I can hardly take my kids anywhere without them being accosted by "well-intentioned" adults (likely with their own kids) offering them free suckers or cookies. Even when I try to teach my kids a little altruism, by bringing food to our local food shelf or delivering meals to homebound elderly, they usually leave with fistfuls of sugary treats. And if a 90 year old grandma offers your kids some candy, no matter how far it is past its expiration date, it can be tough to say no.
Of course I've been complicit in my own pouring of some sugar on my kids, and not necessarily in the name of love. I've resorted to using candy and treats as bribes to my kids for a variety of reasons, the most counter-intuitive likely being giving them suckers to keep them occupied while I take them for a run in the stroller. On more than one occasion I've pulled out the ice cream or the candy bucket in attempt to stave off an oncoming nap too late in the afternoon. Mornings though, tend to be my most vulnerable. When your primary goal is getting everyone out the door with as few tears as possible, allowing your kid to consume sugar-laden cereals or toast with 4 servings of jelly per piece* seems like a battle not worth fighting. This morning, I actually allowed my kids to have a Reese's peanut butter cup as part of their breakfast - my compromise to discourage them from eating it last night at 7pm when it was given to them by (someone else's) grandpa. I figured it's essentially peanut butter toast with chocolate taking the place of the toasted bread.
Yes, that was a bowl of chocolate. Yes, it was eaten at breakfast. |
We all probably want our kids to eat healthier, and some of us (probably most of you, not so much me) do a great job of feeding our kids healthy, well balanced meals and snacks. I'm guessing you've also seen the aftermath of when our kids have overindulged on too much sugar (or too much screen time). It's not pretty, and can be eerily reminiscent of the belligerent drunk. But rewarding (or bribing) your kid with candy (or screen time) can be such an easy out, and unfortunately, we parents don't make it any easier on ourselves. Once your kid sees my kid consuming a lollipop the size of his head, they are obviously going to want one too, and will probably throw themselves on the floor kicking and screaming until you eventually give in. Well, you might not give in, but I would - hence the reason my kid would have the massive lollipop in the first place. Not surprising then that cases of juvenile Type 2 diabetes (the preventable kind) have risen at almost a 5% yearly increase since 2000. Or that the number of cavities in kids age 2-5 increased by 17% from the late 1980s to the early 2000s.
This doesn't mean that we don't try to exterminate the sugar bugs, or at least keep them at bay. We convinced our kids to take a bulk of their excess Halloween candy to a "candy buy back", where kids could get a dollar per pound of candy they brought in. Providing some incentive for your kids to part with some of their sugary booty for some actually coins seems good in theory. But as I watched the bed of a full size pick-up truck being filled with taffy, Bit o' Honeys, and every other type of candy kids don't like, I couldn't help but think that maybe such events wouldn't be necessary if we just didn't give so much to the kids to begin with. I'm not so sure most of the kids even understood the main premise behind the "buy back", as our 4 year old wondered aloud why they were only giving out free toothbrushes and not treats. Of course I did my own candy promulgation when I used the collection of candy my kids received from various Halloween celebrations earlier in the week to hand out to the Trick-or-Treaters who came to our door on Halloween. I made absolutely zero attempt to hide the fact from my own kids that I was doing this, just as I've made it no secret that any remaining candy will be going in our daughter's birthday pinata this weekend.
Deep down we'd probably all like to be that parent, and wish every other parent would be that parent too, that doesn't bring in birthday cupcakes for class snack time or can host a family friendly bonfire that doesn't require the making of S'More's (or just the straight consumption of chocolate and marshmallows like my kids do). A few days before Halloween, I heard a radio ad from Trader Joe's suggesting that people hand out their all natural, anti-plaque toothpaste. The ad made the unsubstantiated claim that four out of five parents prefer toothpaste to candy, but I would hypothesize if you actually conducted some scientific research, that percentage might be higher. Despite this, it can be really hard to bring ourselves to actually do it, even if we know that other parents would likely be appreciative (and hopefully want to follow suit). Not surprisingly, my suggestion last year to dress oranges up as Jack-o-Laterns for Halloween treats for our girls' dance classes was met with considerable eye-rolling.
I thought it was a clever idea..... |
In attempt to make myself feel somewhat better about my choices, I've certainly been duped by the marketing and gone for treats that sound healthy, or could be construed as healthy. This year I noticed that the packaging of a Ring Pop lets you know that it is both nut and gluten free, as though it is some sort of healthier alternative to other products that contain either or both of those things. Spoiler alert though, organic fruit snacks have the exact same nutritional value as those classic dinos and sharks (or the Scoody Doo fruit snacks we gave out this year). You can also always opt for a non-food item, like those plastic spider rings, temporary tattoos or anything else from the Oriental Trading post that has a 110% chance of ending up in the garbage. At a certain point I find myself having zero qualms even throwing away any candy that remains in our house due to either our kid's bad behavior or them just seeming to have forgotten about it.
Wait, this thing is nut free and gluten free? Let me have a taste. |
Obviously if you can keep the candy out of your house, you decrease their ability to consume it, at least when they are in your presence of course. But like most acceptable behavior we want our kids to engage in, if we don't model that behavior ourselves, we can't expect much from them. A few years ago, someone told me that they do "no treats" November to combat the prevalence of sugar-filled holidays this time of year. It seemed like a wise, if not masochistic, undertaking, so this year my wife and I are giving it a whirl. I tell you this not to try and impress you, but so that if we happen to find ourselves in each other's company, and I'm housing a bag of family size Peanut Butter M&Ms, you'll call me on my shit. While public shaming might not always work, I could certainly see it being warranted in my case.
Personally, cutting back my own sugar consumption has become a necessary evil as I've aged and my #dadbod has become more prolific. I have a pretty serious sweet tooth, as exhibited by the abundance of a particular precious metal in my mouth. Eating sugar laden things becomes a slippery slope for me, and I've found that it is easier for me to abstain completely, then to try to limit myself, which ultimately turns into consuming the entire row of Oreos. I can't pretend that I'll be able to, or want to, cut out all of the sugar from my diet, or that using natural sweeteners like honey or maple syrup instead are inherently any better for my health. And while we can have a complex, and somewhat unnecessary, conversation about the merits of agricultural price supports, as doctor and author James Hamblin points out in his book, If Our Bodies Could Talk, he's never heard of anyone using US ag policy as a basis for a diet.
Hopefully, beyond any potential health benefits that I might (conceivably) gain from trying to limit my own sugar intake, my kids might pick up on some healthier eating habits too. It's unrealistic to assume that we'll become a sugar free household, and I'll still do my fair share of giving them sugar to keep them awake when I should have been more forceful about making them nap earlier in the day. But hopefully, when they offer me a bite of their ice cream, and I routinely tell them I can't, it will resonate after a while. Or I suppose they'll just stop trying to be generous. If anything, trying not to eat sweets myself while limit the number of times I suggest to the kids that we head to the bakery for donuts, or go to the Dairy Queen to make use of the free ice cream cone certificates they got from the local police for wearing their bike helmets. It may also mean that if you come over to our house for dinner, we might not be serving a customary dessert. I'll completely understand if you want to decline any future invitations.
^Aldi being the exception of course, which is another reason why I f#@&ing love that place.
*I recently started purchasing the "low sugar" jelly to attempt to combat this.