I have some confessions to make.
My kids watch TV. Educational TV, of course, in limited quantities at appropriate times. But many experts say they shouldn’t be watching any television whatsoever, and the Smart Mom inside my head knows there is some truth to this. But early on a Sunday when my daughter wakes up, the coffee is not yet perked, it’s too early for the newspaper to arrive, and I don’t want her to wake everyone else in the house… I don’t much care what the experts say. I’m not ready to start coloring, play-dohing, reading, and puzzling my way through the 6 o’clock hour of our Sunday morning. So she watches some Elmo, and I try not to fret too much.
It’s the same with my weekly grocery run. I stroll through the produce section, working from my list, and note that I have written “fruit for snacks.” A bag of clementines, check. A bunch of green bananas, check. A half-pint of million-dollar blueberries, check. And then, I furtively glance around to see who is watching before tossing a plastic box of sliced, bagged organic apples into my cart. As I make my way to the cashier, the evil box grins up at me like an early 1980s styrofoam hamburger holder. I quickly cover it with the radishes. The Green Mom on my right shoulder gives a dirty stare to the Busy Mom on the left side. Miser Mom hides behind my shirt collar, whispering to me about how I could have just picked a bushel of apples for the same cost as that little box.
If I were my most amazing self, I would only buy organic, locally grown apples at the farmers’ market and slice them on demand for the kids’ snacks. But no matter how much lemon juice I squeeze or how cold I keep them packed in the lunch cooler, they still turn brown. No one wins in this situation, because I have wasted money and time, they don’t eat the brown apples, and they’re still hungry.
We’re working hard to “eat the rainbow,” and for a family on the go, sometimes shortcuts and convenience packaging make the choice between apple slices or animal crackers much easier. I toss a bag into my purse at 2:00 p.m. when I’m dashing out the door to pick up my son from school, with a toddler in my arms who is still half asleep from her nap. The apples will sit in my bag for almost two hours before she’ll ask me for them in the waiting room of the karate studio, and tah dah! They’re still crunchy, crisp, and white. I’m not sure what kind of magic fairy dust gets sprinkled on the slices before the bags are closed, but there is nothing suspicious on the label, so I don’t much care.
It is not always possible to make selfless choices. I’m buying convenience for a few extra dollars and I feel good about what the kids are eating. It’s not Jim Henson’s furry monsters that the experts have a problem with–it is their delivery method, their packaging, that is controversial. Choosing good health and convenience at the expense of six mini plastic bags in the trash and a plastic carton in my recycling bin every week does weigh on my conscience a little bit. Mother Nature is the only one in the equation who really loses out. I hope she’ll forgive me. Little bags of pre-sliced organic apples (the conventional ones do get mushy and slimy) are like precious jewels in my fruit drawer.
What are your supermarket confessions?

