By Ann McGough

By the time each of my three children went in for their two-month check-ups, our pediatrician categorized them as "off the charts". This does not mean that Ellen was playing the piano, Michael reciting Latin, or Kevin figuring out intricate mathematical equations, it is just a term used for children who are taller and/ or weigh more than the overwhelming majority of their peers. This never surprised me since since my husband, my father, and brother all surpass six feet. As a nursing mother, I took pride in their chubby legs and dimpled arms. "They are getting healthy all because of me." I mused. No one was ever too heavy; the weight was always in proportion with the height, until a very recent check-up.....

One of my cherubs (who will remain anonymous so they can not throw this in my face at a later date) recently had a routine physical. While my child had grown significantly, the child had also gained a significant amount of weight. "No need to be alarmed, we just do not want this to continue."

Immediatley, I knew who to blame: myself, Cheez Doodles, Cape Cod, and CBS.

First off, I blamed CBS and I told the pediatrician as much. I had always given my children fruit and veggies for snacks. One evening I saw a television program which reported on a study that showed children who were forbidden from having junk food came to crave and hoard the goodies while children who were allowed the treats on a regular basis never had a problem with them. I recalled that growing up, we rarely had junk food in our house. As a teenager and young adult, I could not be held responsible for what happened if I was left alone with a bag of cookies or Smartfood Popcorn. It seemed to me that the study made sense. I started buying snack-sized bags of cheez doodles. I allowed the kids to eat more cookies than I previously had. At first they were just "treats," but once the kids sensed that forbidden fruit was in the house, they wanted it more frequently.

And of course, a summer on the Cape can often be detrimental to one's waistline. While countless hours were spent outdoors, running around at the beach, countless evenings were spent at one of a number of local ice cream shops. At home, "going out for ice cream" is a special occasion, like going out to Gerard's after you make your First Penance. But, down on Cape Cod, getting an ice cream becomes a recreational activity, just like mini-golf, the trampolines, or bike riding.

But I am the one responsible for what they eat. No one in my house would ever even know what a Happy Meal or a McNugget was if I had not made the introductions.

Our pediatrician said it is true that you do not want to get into the habit of saying "no" to you children every time they ask for a cookie or a bag of chips. "Just don't have it in the house." So, now we are back to basics. I am lucky, my children like fruit. They can have all the fruit they want (note, per the MD, "watch the bananas, very starchy").

I never intended to go to the drive-through. But sometimes, as you are leaving the zoo or the park, you realize it is 1:45 and the kids have not had luch yet. And although I hardly ever order anything for myself, Ialways end up full because Ellen only ate half of her hamburger and Mikey didn't even touch two of his nuggets and there are always a whole lot of fries left. So, now, we make PB and J's on wheat before we head out in the morning. And that will be good for all of us.