Supplements make me nervous. Call me crazy, but pills that pack more milligrams than a person could reasonably eat in real food and are produced without a whole lot of government regulation send up a few red flags for me. Which is why I tell women to eat well and take a basic multivitamin, plus calcium if they don’t get much in their diet. And to shun any supplement with the word “mega” anywhere on the label. High doses of vitamins and minerals aren’t to be messed with.

Because I eat a good diet, I know that many of the nutrients in my multi—like vitamin C, since I eat my weight in fruit everyday—ultimately go to waste. But there’s something comforting about my bases being covered by just one chewable pink hippo (yes, I take a children’s vitamin and you can too). I’m especially grateful for the folic acid (since half of all pregnancies are unplanned) and vitamin D (since most people, including me, don’t get enough).

I also give my kids a multivitamin—Henry (6) gets a whole one, Sam (2) gets a half. But I’m often left wondering if that’s enough. My friend and fellow registered dietitian, Emia, gives parents some great pointers on her blog and makes the case for considering a couple more. You can read all about it here.

Nitrates in hot dogs, BPA in cans, pesticides on produce. Anyone else notice how crappy the news has been about food lately? When I consider the stuff I grew up on, apparently I should feel lucky just to be alive: canned tuna by the case, countless non-organic apples and peaches I was too lazy to wash, canned fruit, processed meats, processed meats in a can (am I the only one who has fond memories of twisting open a new can of corned beef with that little metal key, sardine-style?).

All eaten, of course, without wearing sunscreen or a seatbelt.

I can’t turn back the hands of time and undo all those Steak-umm sandwiches that I ate. But (to paraphrase one of Oprah’s favorite inspirational phrases) “now that I know better, I can do better”. Now mind you, I don’t overhaul my family’s diet over every scary headline—and I’m way too frugal to turn my life savings over to Whole Foods (trust me, you don’t have to feed your kids $4-a-box organic cheddar bunny crackers to be a good mom). Yet I have made some small—but hopefully significant—tweaks in how and what we eat around here.

I bought a cow. Well, half of one, to be exact. I’m splitting said bovine with a friend, which means each of us needs to make room for roughly 80 pounds of grass-fed beef in our respective chest freezers. Two things influenced this purchase: A viewing of the jaw-dropping, gag-inducing movie “Food, Inc.” and hearing so much about the nutritional perks of grass-fed beef, namely less saturated fat and more healthy fats like omega-3s. We’re paying much less per pound since we’re buying in bulk, and I like that our beef is coming from a local farmer with a few cows, not a mega-cattle operation.

I’m stocking fewer canned foods. Now that the government has finally gotten around to warning us about BPA in cans, I realize I should’ve been seriously worried about this a looong time ago. BPA is a chemical used in the metal lining of cans and in some plastics (including, of course, baby bottles and sippy cups) and has been linked to developmental and reproductive problems in kids. I used to stock canned fruit (packed in juice) in the winter and didn’t think twice about buying something in a can (like pizza sauce) instead of a jarred version. Not anymore.

I’m choosing some organics. Heard of the Dirty Dozen? It’s a list of the fruits and vegetables with the highest residue of pesticides, compiled by the nonprofit Environmental Working Group. They claim you can reduce your exposure to pesticides by 80 percent by buying the organic version of celery, peaches, strawberries, apples, domestic blueberries, nectarines, sweet bell peppers, spinach/kale/collard greens, cherries, potatoes, imported grapes, and lettuce. My kids eat fruit constantly, and I know their little bodies are more vulnerable to big doses of pesticides. And while I’m not ready to shell out for all of these, I’m dipping my toe in the water. I buy organic apples, since Henry and Sam like to eat them unpeeled, and organic lettuce, because my husband and I eat big salads nearly every night at dinner.

I’m shopping more at the farmer’s market. I’m lucky to live a block away from our community’s weekly farmer’s market, which grows larger and livelier every year. This season I’m picking up more things, like free-range eggs from a local farm, homemade veggie burgers, and beautiful organic strawberries that my kids gobble up within minutes. Compared to the stuff at my grocery store, they are splurges—but if it means my family eats a cleaner, healthier diet and my kids learn to love the taste of fresh-picked produce, it’s well worth it (and all that cash I save from my rabid coupon-clipping obsession has to go somewhere).

Have you made any changes to the way you feed your family? I’d love to hear about them.

Photo by Pieter Musterd

It was with a bit of “no duh” that I read the recent news about kids and snacks: According to a study in the journal Health Affairs, children get close to 30 percent of their calories from snacks—about three of them every day.

You see, I own approximately three-thousand plastic kid-size snacks bowls in a variety of colors and sizes. There have been large schools of Goldfish crackers living under my sons’ carseats, and I used to empty out the contents of my purse and shake it free of pretzel and graham cracker debris almost weekly. I am familiar with the fervor and frequency with which little kids eat snacks.

We dietitians like to say that snacks should “fill in the gaps” left from mealtime (like if your child skipped fruit at breakfast, give him an apple mid-morning). But we moms use snacks as much more than gap-fillers. We use them to bribe (“if you get in the car, you can have your string cheese”) and to occupy (“here, eat these Craisins while Mommy looks at carpet samples”). And as anyone who has suffered through a raging meltdown from an over-hungry child at library story hour knows, a well-timed baggie of Triscuits can help us avoid public humiliation as well.

But lately, I’ve been feeling serious snack fatigue. I recently saw a mom at the playground pushing her child from the front of a bucket swing. Every time the child swung toward her, she popped a bite of food into his mouth. What are we doing? I thought. If, as the study researchers point out, our kids are moving toward “continuous eating”, how will they ever know what it feels like to have a growling stomach?

So I’ve started living dangerously: I’ve been letting my kids go hungry. Just a little bit. Instead of always leaving the house with an arsenal of snacks, I’ve been trying to keep just one ziptop bag of raisins on me. I figure that if my kids are truly hungry, they’ll eat them. And at home, I try and wait for them to ask for a snack before offering one–and say “no, not right now” sometimes too.

I’m happy to report that neither Henry nor Sam has dropped dead of hunger at tumbling class or fainted on the walk home from school. And they’re eating more at dinnertime too. (Plus, my car and my purse are much cleaner.)

My friend Amy (aka Citizen Mom) wrote a great piece on kids and snacking for the Philadelphia Inquirer, and featured one of my snack recipes. You can read her story here.

Photo by Valerie Everett

“Juice”–or more accurately, “ju”–was one of Sam’s first words. I’d avoided giving him any juice at all until he suffered one particularly bad bout of constipation and the pediatrician recommended an ounce or two of diluted apple juice to get things moving.

And thus began his obsession with ju.

The kid would drink juice all day, everyday, if I let him. I don’t. Compared to fruit, juice doesn’t have a whole lot going for it. And since Sam devours fruit, he doesn’t need it. So I’ve settled on a compromise: a half cup of diluted orange juice in the morning with breakfast–and that’s it.

Today I have a guest post about juice on LittleStomaks, a great blog devoted to toddler nutrition. I answer the question, “Is giving juice to my kids okay as long as it’s 100% fruit juice?” You can read it here.

Cheers!

Photo by Leonid Mamchenkov

My three-step process for controlling Easter candy chaos. Step One: Pack it away in an opaque container.

I made a somewhat crazy promise to myself on Easter Sunday. As with any crazy promise that you make to yourself–but that you aren’t entirely sure you’ll be able to keep–it’s best that you announce it, loudly and repeatedly, in front of others.

“I’m not going to eat ANY of Henry and Sam’s Easter candy!” I proclaimed to my entire family.

“Everything in moderation” may be the party line in dietetics, but I’ve talked with enough people about their trouble foods—and waged wars with my own—to know it’s not always that simple. With some foods, you just shouldn’t even start.

Step Two: Place it up high and out of reach.

For me, that very broad category definitely includes jelly beans, (stale) Peeps, and large blocks of milk chocolate. After Henry and Sam made the rounds to the grandparents’ houses, we had exactly six Easter baskets full of candy. And since they’re still too little to remember precisely how large their stash was–and notice if, say, their chocolate dump truck suddenly drove away–it’s way too tempting to dip into it.

I’m happy to report that three days in, not a single peanut butter egg  has passed my lips. Think this might work for you? Make your own vow to de-Creme Egg your diet right now.

Step 3: Put whatever doesn't fit into a bag and make your spouse take it to his workplace.

And don’t worry if you’ve already downed an Easter basket’s worth of sugar. My promise–technically “I’m not going to eat ANY MORE of Henry and Sam’s Easter candy!” –was made in the throes of a Brach’s-induced high blood sugar headache.

Compared to my scrap-paper-in-a-junk-drawer meal plan, this white board my friend has posted in her kitchen is truly a thing of beauty.

The dinner hour is my least favorite part of the day. Not dinner itself–it’s actually the 45 minutes before dinner, when my husband’s not home yet, the kids are alternately begging for snacks or racing their dumptrucks around the kitchen island, and I’m scrambling to pull the meal together (and often, fighting the urge to run screaming out the back door).

One of the few things that saves me every night: My meal plan. It’s nothing fancy–scribbled on scrap paper and kept in my kitchen’s junk drawer. But it guarantees that “ugh, what are we having for dinner?” is not something I have to worry about in those dreadful 45 minutes.

Meal planning can save not only your sanity, but also your budget (no last minute trips to the grocery store to pick up rice/chicken broth/lettuce) and your weight, since the default plan to no meal plan is typically pizza delivery or restaurant take-out.

Over at Raise Healthy Eaters, Maryann Jacobsen has a terrific series on family meal planning. I was lucky enough to contribute to part five: “12 Tips for Getting Dinner on the Table Fast”. You can read it here.

Sam's leftovers from our trip to the grocery store--destined for the garbage disposal, not my mouth.

In my self-righteous, childless days, I had a very long list of things I said I’d never do once I had them: change a diaper on an airplane seat, let my toddler run screaming through Target—and definitely never eat my kids’ food scraps. Even those cute, young dads licking away the drips on their child’s ice cream cone kind of grossed me out.

But among the strange things that happen when you become a mom: You start picking up people’s discarded food. And eating it.

Why do we do this? Because it’s there? Because we still feel guilty about the starving children our own parents told us about? Because hours-old pizza crusts and handfuls of semi-stale Cheerios just taste really, really good?

Whatever the reason, it’s a bad, bad habit (my personal rock bottom occurred five years ago when I found myself absentmindedly nibbling a half-eaten Biter Biscuit). And if you’re still bemoaning your baby weight–and your baby’s halfway through pre-K–breaking it can make a big difference.

I recently worked with a woman who confessed to constantly picking off her kids’ plates. Using a tip I’d heard from dietitian extraordinaire Joy Bauer, I suggested she set aside all those food scraps she would normally eat during the day to see how much she was taking in.

So she put a bowl on her kitchen counter. Every time she was tempted to swipe a bite from her kids’ plates, she put it in the bowl instead. At the end of the day, she was so disgusted by the sorry-looking pile of bread crusts, Goldfish crackers, and half-eaten apple slices that she stopped the habit cold-turkey.

Oh, and over the course of a couple months, she also lost about 10 pounds.

Sam trying to swipe one of Santa's cookies...or some of the reindeer's broccoli (yeah, probably not)

I was reading one of my go-to blogs, Raise Healthy Eaters, when I came across a post called “Why Every Parent Needs A Feeding Strategy”.

I flew into a semi-panic. Did I have a feeding strategy?  I had a collection of household food policies and a whole bunch of opinions. But a feeding strategy sounded way better than that.

So this week, I interviewed the dietitian behind Raising Healthy Eaters, Maryann Tomovich Jacobsen, M.S., R.D., who is also a mom of two. Here’s what she had to say about the best way to feed your kids:

When you say that every parent needs a “feeding strategy”, what do you mean by that?

I want parents to know that “how” they feed their kids is as important as “what” they feed them.  Parents really need to think about this and be on the same page.  I use Ellyn Satter’s Division of Responsibility — parents decide the “what,” “when” and “where” of feeding, and children decide the “whether” and “how much”.  I also provide my kids with regular meals and snacks, most at the kitchen table.  By following this strategy, it helps prevent many problems because my children know the routine and don’t try to fight it.  Most problems occur when either parent or child crosses the Division of Responsibility—when children decide what to eat or parents try to force a kid to eat.  Having a feeding strategy simplifies things and makes feeding times pleasant.

What’s the biggest mistake you see parents making when it comes to feeding their kids?

I think parents cater to their children too much out of fear that they will go hungry.  The problem with this is that kids never learn to like a wider variety of foods.  Parents don’t realize that the family table is where kids learn about food.  I think parents feel they have to choose between their kids favorites and adult food—but they don’t.  For example, I’m very strategic with what I serve at meals.  If dinner is a new or disliked item, then I make sure that lunch is a favorite.  I also include at least two items I know my kid is likely to eat at every meal (though there are no guarantees).  Over the last couple of months my 3-year old has tried more food like soup, lettuce and broccoli.  Eventually, with enough exposures to food, kids will try more and more.  And they’ll be very proud of themselves.

So many kids are obsessed with dessert. In your house, do you have any special strategies when it comes to sweet treats?

We follow the Division of Responsibility, so when my 3-year old asks for something sweet I say, “Mommy decides” and tell her we’ll have it another time.  We almost always have ice cream at home but don’t have it every night.  I save the ice cream for nights my husband is out, then she and I will have it together.  I make cookies every once and a while and give some to her as a snack.  I follow Satter’s advice to let children have as much of sweets as they want when you do offer them (not to graze, but at the table).  So when I offer cookie for a snack, I let her have cookies until she’s satisfied.  Last time I did this she had 2 1/2 cookies.  I do the same with the ice cream.  I think this is one reason my daughter doesn’t seem so obsessed with sweets.  I was brought up in a home where sweets came and went so fast (five siblings fighting over them!) and it took me quite a few years to calm my sweet obsession.

You’re not a fan of the “two-more-bites” approach, but what about the kid who barely eats any dinner then asks for a snack 30 minutes later?

Having a feeding strategy really helps, as does having items at dinner you know they like. Anytime we make children eat more than they want, we teach them to eat for external reasons instead of tuning into their bodies.  A better alternative to asking for “two more bites” is to ask if they are full—and remind them when the next meal or snack will be. I think it’s okay to let a child get hungry. That’s how they learn.

How can kids learn by feeling hunger?

If children are never allowed to get hungry, they will never learn how to manage that hunger by eating enough at dinner. As parents, we can help by asking them if they’re full and reminding them that this is the last meal or snack.  I think hunger and fullness are the first nutrition lessons kids get.  It’s much better to teach them to tune into their bodies than to take a few more bites or clean their plates. I understand that this is very difficult for parents, especially moms (me included!).  It’s very natural to want your child to be full and satisfied.  But if parents are offering food every 2-3 hours (3 meals and 2-3 snacks), they have to trust that their kids are getting enough.  And it’s okay for them to be hungry every once and a while. (Though for kids who stay up later, I think incorporating a bedtime snack is a good idea too.)

What’s one thing parents can do tonight at dinner to put their kids on the road to being healthier eaters?

Make mealtime pleasant and not about “what” or “how much” their kids are eating. It’s funny because my daughter doesn’t know she’s a picky eater because we don’t make a big deal of it.  If meals are pleasant, kids will want to come to the table night after night and they will be more likely to eat.  And hopefully they will continue the family meal tradition when they become parents.

You can read some of Maryann’s posts here:

Preventing Childhood Eating Problems

Making Family Dinners More Kid-Friendly

The cover of last week’s OK! magazine brings back so many memories—of me, after my son Sam was born 20 months ago, making soy protein and flaxseed smoothies in full makeup and a fashionable yet supportive tank top.

Alright, alright. For the first four (read: eight) weeks, I ate cereal out of the box, wore a threadbare robe that reeked of spit-up, and didn’t bother with makeup because I would’ve cried off mascara faster than I could apply it.

Compared to the rosy picture that OK! paints of former Playmate Kendra Wilkinson’s postpartum experience, I think mine is a bit closer to reality. Yet there she was in the grocery checkout line, where every worn-out, sweatpant-ed new mom could take inspiration from her “healthy recipes!” and “easy workouts!”

I know new moms need help. I needed help. But this “body-after-baby” celebrity drivel about Heidi Klum walking the Victoria’s Secret runway two months after her son was born and Jessica Alba hitting the gym for core exercises when her baby was just three weeks old? Not helpful.

Celebrities have trainers and extravagant meal-delivery services. They have housekeepers. And night nurses. And teams of on-call hair and makeup people. Perhaps even careers on the line if they don’t get back into their size-two skinny jeans stat.

Moms of newborns should not feel pressure to do core exercises or make smoothies. There will be time for healthy recipes and easy workouts. Later. In those first couple of months, it’s about taking care of your baby—and just surviving. And if your newborn is colicky like my Sam was, you are officially allowed to eat Doritos for dinner if it makes you happy.

That’s probably what Kendra’s secretly doing right now anyway.

The last time I ate out–and I use that term loosely because it was at a Panera along I-70 in Ohio–I had a squirmy toddler, a spazzy kindergartener, and a hungry husband with me. Simply placing the order was an ordeal (“I want mac and cheese…no! I mean grilled cheese…no! I mean mac and cheese…”), so there wasn’t much time to ask about (or even ponder) nutrition information. Some key digits posted on the menu board–like calories and fat grams–would’ve been a big help.

In a guest blog post, I make a case for labeling menus on fellow dietitian D. Milton Stokes’s blog, and you can read it here.

Photo by wallyg