When I was growing up I learned to eat slowly, taking great — some might say obsessive — pains not to make any noise. Hova grew up with two brothers, the three of them gulping food down to make sure they got their fair share. Heaven help the brother who left a slice of pizza for later; nothing in their fridge was sacred. I, on the other hand, had to ask about every bit of food, in case it was being saved for something. Hova and I have been together for 28 years, and I still think he eats too fast and he still thinks I am far too demanding. So how have our dissimilar eating styles amalgamated in Georgia?

Once she began eating solid food Georgia ate slowly, with great enthusiasm for tastes she liked. She should be the poster girl for the Slow Food [1] movement. I used to love watching her eat strawberries when she was a tiny thing; she savored each bite and got covered in sweet, red juice. She’d sign, “More!” and I’d give up my last strawberry to watch her enjoy another one. She fell asleep in her high chair once, savoring a strand of spaghetti. Food she’s not as excited about can take much longer as she counter instinctually takes smaller and smaller bites, or chews for several minutes to avoid swallowing. Even when she’s happy with her meal our dinnertimes can be a lengthy test of parental patience. Because we want dinner to be a respected, social, relaxed time, we don’t force her to rush. I don’t want to teach her that eating is something you should do quickly and without your senses fully engaged.

So I was very surprised when Georgia stuffed a huge bite of banana muffin into her mouth, chewed for a mere moment, and tried to swallow a great lump.

“That was a huge bite!” I said in disbelief.
“Mumph mfff mphmp…” she chewed.
“That was too big of a bite. It’s not good for you to eat big bites like that.”
“I wanted to finish it — I’m in a hurry!” she said.
“Why are you in a hurry? We don’t have to go anywhere!” I reminded her.
“I know, I’m just in a hurry.”

My buttons were all pushed; a big bite, shoving food, eating fast, not enjoying it, and FOR NO REASON! I’d blame Hova, but she always says he eats too fast too. And I know where it comes from. It’s one of the many things she’s UN-learning at school. Along with the very anti-green practices of using wipes every day to clean the desktops and using paper towels as snack plates, the kids only have a 20 minute lunch period. By the time they get in and settled they have about 15 minutes to eat. The older kids get 15 minutes total. They all can stay and finish if they want to, but then they’d miss recess. No way that’s going to happen. And just as I understand using wipes (those little kids are messy germ magnets), and paper towels (is the teacher going to stay and wash plates too?), I understand that they can’t have a leisurely lunch. A connection to our food is not what school is about. Yet. To give credit, Portland is trying, with a locally sourced monthly special Local Lunch [2] and farm field trips so kids can make the link. Someday maybe the important thing in school will be to counteract fast food, and to realize how our food choices affect the world. But it’s going to come slowly. I’m pretty sure I can encourage Georgia to slow down at home, but the sad fact is she does need to become skilled at fast eating to have enough fuel to learn.

Photo credit: mwrl [3]