Vegetables, ice cream and innocence

We have started getting a riverford weekly organic vegetable box. I think it's been healthy for the adults in the family -- we eat considerably more bok choi and kohlrabi than we used to. It's a good thing to do, gives farmers a reliable and fair price and all that. The tomatoes and carrots have been delicious. 
  But I don't think it's been that great for the girls. After all, they won't touch a ginger and lemon stir fry with cashews, carrots and kohlrabi no matter how good I say it is (to be fair, Nina will try it and eat a little). So they end up eating a selection of creative soups (including, believe it, a soup made by pureeing a cashew, carrot and kohlrabi stir fry, which Nina in fact loved), or they have more crackers with cream cheese, carrot sticks and apple slices than is reasonable. 
  Amps is too willing (in my opinion) to bribe them with the promise of ice cream. With him away, I roasted some organic squash and some organic red peppers. I briefly cooked some organic carrots and blended Annika a soup with milk, carrot, roasted squash. Nina loved the soup, Annika said she'd have it for breakfast. They both had some nuts and milk. Whatever. Nina was still hungry, and I made a fatal error: I commented that there should be a prize for someone who eats that extra piece of squash. 
  She was really, really disappointed when the prize wasn't ice cream or chocolate. She was whiny and sulky about it.
  I remember about 4 years ago, Nina was 2, and I had a moment when I realised that any latent food issues I had would have to go. I didn't want her growing up thinking that you only eat healthy food to get to unhealthy food, or that thin people "deserved" more chocolate than larger people, or that we "deserved" a sweet treat after we did something active or something good (not that I thought those things, but these are attitudes you can find out there in "the culture"). I didn't want her growing up afraid of being fat, stigmatizing fat people, or even thinking about fat-ness and size, not as long as I could avoid it. I didn't want her thinking that what you do when you want something really fun is eat -- even if that's true. It's not the only thing people do, we do, for fun, so why should she think that way? And I think that we have pretty much managed that. We mostly eat pretty well (except maybe for Annika). Of course we enjoy treats, but we haven't typically held them up as the big reward, the most fun thing to do together. 
    Anyway there I was, Nina whining and sulking away. And I did something I wish I hadn't. I sat down beside her, pointed out her perfect muscular stomach, showed her my rather less perfect version, and started to be perfectly frank about how women feel about food, about fat, about food as a reward, about how hard it can be to consistently make healthy eating choices every day. About how most of us just don't manage it. About how there are so many people out there who worry and think about this every day, when they put on their clothes, when they meet new people, when they go to a party. About how I wanted her to have good feelings about food, and about good food - not to get in the habit of eating to get to "treat" foods. I told her some people get so intense trying to be thin that they stop eating and become very ill. I told her that if I had ice cream and chocolate every time I had healthy food I'd have to get clothes from special shops because I wouldn't fit into my normal clothes (all true, sadly enough). She looked pretty shocked.
    I hope she didn't care too much. I actually hope it didn't sink in. I feel like I got angry and took away a precious bit of innocence, and I can't ever give it back.
    I wish Amps had never started with the treats, but it's not his fault. I picked Nina up from gardening club today - planting radishes - and we went to get some hummus. We passed a few of her friends, all about 4-6 years old, each holding a styrofoam container with at least 2-3 cups of fries. Some of her friends get ice cream at the ice cream van every day -- and all this is none of my business, until I have to keep explaining that we don't do that. 
   One day she'll grow up. I'm glad it's a long way away, but it seems too close today. She'll no doubt be less perfect one day, at least in her physical perfection, though I think I'll always see her perfection. We all decay with time. I just wish the clean slate I tried to start 4 years ago could have lasted a few more years, a decade, two more decades. I wish I hadn't said all those things.