Eat your berries!
Driving back from the farm co-op pick up, Z would often ask to hold the green cardboard, half-pint of raspberries for the quick ride home. Usually, this meant that L would chime in that he wanted to hold them. Of course, Z would be quick to point out he had made the initial request and thus, was the rightful holder of the precious fruit. L might try and pull the container out of Z’s hands or start crying or engage some other tactic, depending on his age and mood. But regardless of what transpired, no raspberries survived that five-minute ride home. They would all have been eaten by the little boys in the back seat before we pulled in the driveway.
From June through October, we had options to pick strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, peaches, and apples at local farms. We always made the trip out for cider donuts and apple picking in the fall and frequently added berry picking to our summers. Fruit picked fresh is a whole different experience than the berries shipped in from California or Mexico—the center of a strawberry that fades from a brilliant red to a softer pink is so much sweeter that one that has a thin red exterior and white flesh. Apples just hours or days off the branch are crisper, juicier, and more flavorful than the ones that traveled for days on a truck from Washington state. One of my favorite desserts is fresh berries with homemade whipped cream. We have been lucky enough to visit the farm at just the right time and come home with blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries, freshly picked and still warm from the hot summer sun.
I rarely limited fruit or vegetable consumption with my kids. I made sure their plates were colorful with fruits and vegetables at almost every meal. Many summers, we grew our own herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, and red peppers. One late summer day, Z and I were out in the garden weeding. Z asked me if he could pick one of the red peppers. After ensuring its ripeness, I agreed. To my surprise, after picking it, Z bit right into it, as if it was an apple. For years after that, slices of red, yellow, or orange pepper made it onto plates as a kid-approved vegetable to eat.
I had grown up with grandparents who had a large vegetable garden and while we didn’t live close to them, I have fond memories of eating produce picked fresh from their garden. Vegetables I already loved such as broccoli, carrots, corn, squash, cucumber, lettuce, radishes. And things I had never heard of, most memorably, kohlrabi and yellow wax beans, which I absolutely loved. As a kid, I remember heading out to a local farm and filling those thin, plastic produce bags with plums, nectarines, green beans, cauliflower, broccoli—whatever was in season. My mom’s biggest complaint was that we all loved fruit so much, peaches, plums, pears, grapes never lasted more than a day or two. I was determined to expose my kids to all kinds of fruits and vegetables from a young age. And we were lucky enough to have a wide variety of fresh produce available to us from the local farm co-op in the late spring through fall to pick-your-own farms with farm stores offering their own bounty to grocery stores well-stocked with appealing and tasty fruits and vegetables year round.
A few years ago, I realized that I rarely ate berries anymore. Berries had always been a go-to fruit for my kids and many weeks passed when I could not seem to have enough in the fridge to satiate these growing little boys. At some point, I had stopped eating berries. Not because of any allergy or sensitivity or newfound dislike, but because I wanted the berries to be available for the boys. Over time, this extended to other fruits as well. Bananas, clementines and then mandarins, apples, grapes—all were in such high demand among the three little humans in the house that I stopped eating them. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just something I did without much thought.
I can’t recall how many times I have opened the fridge and seen a half-empty container of strawberries that are on the verge of going bad. Rather than take them out and eat them myself, I might cut them up and serve them with a meal or remind one of the boys to finish them up.
I know I am not the only parent to do this. When I am working with a mom, especially moms of littler kids, I often ask, “Do you eat the berries?” as a way to remind her of all the small ways she is changing her habits, behaviors, routines to accommodate the needs of her littles. We do it so easily, so subconsciously, we often don’t think about it. Let them pick out the movie, the music, the activity. Rearrange our schedule to ensure we can attend their game or drop them off at their rehearsal, cancel our own plans to get them where they need to go, interrupt our sleep to soothe a worried child.
These days, the asks are bigger. Don’t plan a trip over break because of practice. Rearrange a dinner because someone needs a ride. Postpone a visit with family because of a team banquet. Stay up late waiting for him to walk through the door, safe and clear. Let go of the need to weigh in, to have a say, as long as we are together.
These days, I am trying to be more deliberate about remembering to eat the berries, to enjoy a clementine or an apple with peanut butter. I am also much less concerned about picking the restaurant or the movie or the music in the car. I have learned over these past 19 years, that I can be happy with most anything, as long as we are together. As long as they are with me. There will be plenty of time for choosing a restaurant, listening to my music, watching my movies. Right now, I am creating the space for them to develop their own taste, try out their interests, figure out who they want to be in this harsh world.
So now, I eat the berries. But I also want to always remember the joy in seeing the world through their eyes. In learning what music they love to hear. What food interests them. What friends they spend their time with. What questions they have in their constantly working brains. What they like and don’t like. What values are driving their decisions.
What their one precious life will bring to this world.