Daily Archive

I have to tread very carefully at the grocery store. I could easily turn into an itinerant preacher of the gospel of Good Food. That’s not who I want to be.

Yesterday at the store, I was run into three times by the same little redheaded boy. He was tearing around the store, running backward most of the time so he couldn’t see where he was going. His mom kept running at top speed after him, but he was just faster. Dad had the other children in tow, two of whom were crying and insisting on buying this, that and the other thing. I was behind them in the checkout line and watched as Mom put box after box on the conveyor. I smiled when I heard a rustle of plastic—a plastic bag of veggies maybe? No, bulk candy from the bin. When I saw a plastic clamshell box, I thought “Strawberries, perhaps?” No, cookies from the bakery. There were no vegetables at all. There might have been some fruit in the juice boxes, but it’s unlikely. There were chips, cookies, four twelve-packs of soda, about two dozen frozen entrees, four boxes of sugary breakfast cereal, two gallons of ice cream and about ten “Lunchables.” There was formula for the baby, but no milk, pasteurized or otherwise. There were fruit roll ups, and a big old bag of Splenda.

Mom, Dad, the eight-year-old boy and four-year-old girl were all overweight. The baby screamed the whole trip, the boy ran and the girl whined and rubbed her nose and ears. Mom and Dad were grumpy and yelling at the kids. At one point Mom hollered at Dad, “I TOLD you he had to take his Adderall EVERY DAY!” I remembered there were many days I had just like that. More often than not it was just before the whole family came down with a virus. But given what was in their cart, I had to wonder if at least some of it was food-related. I wondered just how many days like that they had in any given month. And then I remembered the road I was on that led right to where that family was.

I read this post this morning and was reminded where I was. Vin Miller at Natural Bias really hit the nail on the head for me. I have had bouts of postpartum depression, worsening with each child since baby number three was born. I thought the cure for that was no more babies, but just as menopause hit, so did another depression; deeper and darker than ever. I’m almost completely recovered, but still have days when the clouds loom. I am beginning to see those clouds as the result of poor diet choices. I’m usually okay with one indiscretion as long as I don’t repeat it within a day or two. Two days of poor choices and the clouds start to gather. Several weeks of “convenience” foods (like after a baby is born when I would rely on the fast, easy option to get more rest) and I would sink very low, indeed.

John has battled Obsessive Compulsive Disorder since he turned ten. It isn’t debilitating, just an insistence on things being even. If he touches something with one hand, he has to touch it with the other. I was much the same way as a child, but not to the point that it bothered me. For me it was like a game. For him, he insists something bad will happen if he doesn’t comply with the demands of his mind. He has seen a gradual lessening of his symptoms since cleaning up his diet, but it was so gradual it almost escaped his notice. A couple days ago in the car, he said, “Mom, I just noticed that when I eat something sugary, my OCD comes back really strong for about 20 minutes.” We talked about some of the evidence that sugar and refined carbs are implicated in mental disorders. I could see the wheels turning in his head by the way his brow furrowed.

What I don’t want to do is point at someone’s grocery cart and say “STOP! You’re killing yourself!!” But I do want to encourage people to look to their diets first. First, before the endless parade of doctors and pills. First, before the assumption that there is something wrong that you can’t control. And above all, I want to remember that “there, but for the grace of God go I.”