Chloe recently opened my eyes to a hard truth. She’s been on a “healthy eating” kick for a few months and it’s serious enough that she now has a dedicated space in the pantry for her rolled oats, quinoa, wheat pasta, buckwheat flour, rice noodles, peanuts (for homemade peanut butter), slivered almonds, a spiralizer to make zucchini pasta…and the list goes on.
As she’s ventured deeper into her food experimentation, I’ve struggled with contradictory feelings. On the one hand, I’m proud of her self-sufficiency. On the other hand, I feel inadequate because, let’s face it, she still has a few more years under our roof and shouldn’t I be the one to prepare these nutritious meals for her?
