Anne Wolfe Postic

I was out of town for five days. I left food, real food, like vegetables and fruit, all easily indentifiable. I left enough vegetables for a large stir-fry, which I made as an afternoon snack the day after my return, so the aging produce wouldn’t go to waste. I married a man who knows how to cook, a man who shuns junk food, who once shamed me for my fast food drive-through habit. I had three wonderful sons with that man. Somewhere along the way, he chose pizza as a food group.

When I was little, “happy meal” meant food in the shape of a face. My parents weren’t fans of fast food and, with four kids, it wasn’t even a bargain. Banana slices with peanut butter for eyes, an apple wedge for the mouth and broken crackers and cheese for all the other features. It was fun! These days, the game has changed. I’m no artist, and my food faces are pretty lame compared to what the internet has to offer.

First of all, that chasing thing is sort of a myth. Toddlers are slow, forcing their parents to move at a snail’s pace. I used to speed walk from place to place, but those days were over. Many toddlers reach an age where they don’t want to go in the stroller any more. Maybe you can force them, but then you get those judging looks from other parents, wondering why you won’t let your toddler have any exercise. Also, the screaming can be hard to endure.

Katie Morford is a food writer, a registered dietician and a mother of three children. These qualifications show in her book. I’ve read lunch box books before that made me balk. The recipes were complicated, or I found myself thinking, “Sure, my kids will eat this in theory, but at the lunch table under the watchful eyes of their peers? Not so much.” Katie gets it. Her ideas are simple, healthy and varied enough to appeal to any child. Think you know it all?