A common critique of today’s youth is that they are overly pampered, lacking the resilience to face real-world challenges. I admit I feel a mix of annoyance and agreement with this sentiment. On one hand, I’m grateful that my children have been spared from the horrors of war and famine; on the other, I worry about their preparedness for any genuine hardship. And let’s be honest—what’s often missing when life gets tough? Snacks.
Yes, you read that correctly, fellow parents. The expectation for our children to have snacks at the ready every half hour is creating a generation that equates snacks with meals, believing they are not just a luxury but a necessity.
I’ve begrudgingly adapted to the trend of post-game and post-practice snacks. If your child participates in any sport or physical activity, you know the drill: you’re assigned a week to bring snacks. I’m still baffled by how this became standard practice. Growing up, our parents handed us a few Cheerios after a long day of play, but here we are, living in the snack-centric culture of 2016 suburbia.
And the expectations keep evolving. Just when I thought I could manage with Gatorade and cookies, I was introduced to the “snack bag.” After my 3-year-old’s weekly “game” (and I use that term loosely), he’s given a bag filled with a juice box and at least two other snacks like pretzels or fruit gummies. A snack bag for toddlers who mostly stand around and pick their noses? Sure, why not? I went along with it.
This week, I dropped my 5-year-old off at art camp, which lasts 90 minutes and takes place indoors between breakfast and lunch—two meals that seem to have been overshadowed by our snack crisis. As I checked her in, the instructor casually mentioned, “You can put her snack on the counter there.”
“What? I’m expected to bring a snack?” I questioned.
“Well, you don’t have to, but you can if you want,” she replied.
I looked over and saw a lineup of nine snacks on the counter for ten kids. You can do the math. Although I was confident my daughter didn’t need a snack (having just eaten breakfast 11 minutes prior), I didn’t want her to feel left out. Especially since she’s my only daughter, often overshadowed by her older brother’s activities and her younger brother’s tantrums.
“The vending machine downstairs has options if you want to grab something,” the instructor suggested.
After a quick check, I discovered the vending machine only accepted cash—surprising in 2016. Naturally, my purse was devoid of any coins. But I was determined! I enlisted my boys to help dig through the car for change. We bravely rummaged beneath seats, discovering a few nickels stuck to the floor by old snack wrappers. One child found a quarter, but it turned out to be a Chuck E. Cheese token. After a thorough search, we finally managed to find enough change for a snack. Teamwork!
We then spent an hour driving around since we didn’t have enough time to return home. When we picked her up, she emerged from the camp beaming, holding the popcorn she bought from the vending machine that she hadn’t had time to eat.
Tomorrow, I’ll ensure I pack a “real snack” for her 90-minute art camp. Perhaps tomorrow’s craft will involve creating a “Mom of the Year” necklace because let’s be honest, I could use one.
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In summary, the rise of snack culture among our children raises concerns about their ability to face real challenges without relying on constant sustenance. As parents, we must navigate these evolving expectations while ensuring our kids learn resilience in the face of adversity.