We’re bombarded with nutrition advice—some of it sound, some of it fear-based. But even good advice won’t work for your family if it doesn’t align with your values.
Food traditions might not check every "healthy eating" box, but they nourish us in ways that go far beyond nutrients. When we focus only on what to limit, we risk losing what makes food joyful, memorable, and meaningful. That matters—for us and for our kids.
In my early years of motherhood, I was laser-focused on limiting sugar. In my research over the years, the data were clear: sugar, and sugary beverages, in particular, were strongly linked to poor long-term health outcomes. And time and again I heard from adults about how difficult it was to stop drinking them. What's more, kids were consuming them at younger and younger ages.
In 2021, 49% of children aged 1-5 years old did not eat a daily vegetable during the preceding week; and more than 57% drank a sugar-sweetened beverage.
So I made a decision—no soda in the house. That felt easy. But what else?
I was sharing this with a colleague one day. We were standing in my kitchen. I didn't have kids yet, but I was pregnant with my first and as I shared this idea of wanting to find ways to limit sugar in the house she glanced around my kitchen, and said: “Yeah, soda, sure. But obviously also don’t keep these around.”
“These” were freshly baked and decorated frosted Christmas cookies.
When I was a kid I made cookies like this every year with my mom. They reminded me of childhood and holidays and my family.
But in that moment, I didn’t see any of those connections, that tradition. All I saw were piles of sugar. Suddenly I imagined the inevitable battles that would ensue with these lying in the kitchen, kids running through the house:
“Can I have one now? Pleeeeeaaaase” “Just one more?” “Why not??”
I didn't want to have to say no all the time. And I didn't want to adopt an all you can eat sugar cookie mentality either. (Now I know, of course, that these aren't the only two options ... but I was young and naive). My colleague's advice - eliminate these cookies - was going to help me achieve my goal: limit sugar.
So I stopped making them. For six years.
Fast forward almost 6 years, three kids, and a lot of personal growth. One afternoon in the preschool pickup line, a mom and I were chatting about the weekend ahead and she said, "Oh, I'm so excited. Friday is our 'sick day'.”
I must have had an obviously confused look on my face because she quickly followed with an explanation. “We’re not actually getting sick. Every year at this time, we pick a day, everyone calls in sick to school and work, and we spend the day in our PJ listening to Christmas music, watching holiday movies, and baking cookies. We love it. And I know, I know … all that sugar. Inevitably someone gets a stomachache from eating too many cookies, but we only have so much time with our kids at home – you know - and these memories are priceless.”
We only have so much time with our kids at home – you know - and these memories are priceless.
I was floored. She had taken the very thing I’d given up—and made it the centerpiece of an annual tradition.
That afternoon, I went home, baked a batch of sugar cookies, and let my kids go to town. Sugar be damned.
The following year, we did the same thing again, making and decorating sugar cookies and this time we invited friends.
Now? Our cookie decorating party is eight years strong. But more importantly, it sparked a shift in how I think about food.
But that’s not all. That experience opened the door for me to consider the importance of traditions broadly – especially as they relate to food - and we’ve continued to add new ones. :
- Sunday pancake breakfasts
- Raclette on Christmas Eve
- Choose-your-own birthday dinners
- Weekly pizza and movie night
Food became more than a tool to manage nutrients. It became a tool to strengthen connection and celebrate being together.
Why this 180? What happened?
Listening to that mom in the preschool pick-up line, I realized something critical had been missing from the way I took advice to help me achieve my health goals.
Achieving goals (any goals really, but especially health and wellness goals) is hard. It requires us to make behavioral, psychological, maybe even financial changes. It takes dedication it takes effort it takes.
So advice, even when it’s well-meaning and evidence-based, doesn’t always fit. Why? Because it leaves something out: your values.
If a piece of advice conflicts with your values, it may help you achieve a short-term goal—but it won’t feel good. And it won’t stick. For lasting change, advice needs to help you achieve your goals AND align with your values.
Now, before I take any advice, I ask: "Does this align with my values?" If not, I let it go.
I know that feeding kids feels hard. It feels consequential. It feels like every meal matters and that if they're not eating what you made tonight, it's a failure. But remember: You have time. More than you think.
So if you’ve given up a food tradition that once brought you joy because you thought that's what you were supposed to do .... it’s not too late to bring it back.
Because the best kind of healthy eating is the kind that nourishes body and soul.
