I'm The Boss Not McDonald's

This evening, my husband’s cousin (who also happens to be our occasional babysitter) told me something disturbing. She told me that on a Nickelodeon program, a young boy made a joke about having big feet, “you know what that means …” (insinuating the whole “big feet” premise). The reason it disturbed me is because I couldn’t imagine any age demographic that Nickelodeon targets, in which that joke would have been appropriate. What really gets to be about this, though, is that one of my managers at work, having just returned from a marketing conference, communicated some of the topics on the table with regard to children and advertising. This led to a discussion amongst a few members in our department about what was appropriate in terms of marketing to children. Juxtaposing these two conversations, I find it ludicrous that people are suggesting that certain advertising is “bad” while sexually implicit content, on the right tv station, seems to be okay. I, personally, find some of the content in programs far more offensive than any commercial for some sugary snack that, frankly, at the end of the day, I don’t have to buy. I digress. On the matter at hand-advertising and responsibility. I didn’t grow up with sweets in my house. Period. We got to trick-or-treat and even most of that candy was removed from our clutches. My mother determined what I ate and she explained to me why certain things weren’t allowed (e.g. sugary cereal). There was no debate. She was my mother. Period. Candy was a luxury I indulged in while in the care of my grandparents. What that led to—I didn’t have a single cavity until I was an adult. My BMI was consistently low. I was a great athlete and much smarter than I am now. I didn’t become addicted to candy later and I didn’t hate my mother. Basically, I was a good, smart, healthy kid who, looking back, was far more occupied with something some kids just don’t do nowadays—PLAYING. Has it occurred to some of these researchers that, in fact, lack of physical activity and not commercials may be the cause of childhood obesity (I play with my son, even when I don’t feel like it)? Further, has it occurred to parents that, in fact, WE are in charge of what our children watch on TV and eat? Like, hello, my 4 year-old doesn’t have an ATM card. He can’t hop on his bike and drive to McDonald’s to get a happy meal. When did it become the responsibility of advertisers and toy companies to assure the proper diets of children? Aren’t we, the PARENTS, supposed to be teaching our children about nutrition, diet, exercise, etc.? Parenting is a difficult job. It’s low paying; you usually only get recognized when your kid screws up; people are always judging you; you are always judging yourself. But it is one of the most important jobs anyone has if he or she chooses to take it on. When I see young, obese, children, my heart breaks. Research published in the journal Nature, in 2008, found fat cells can shrink--but they don't go away. This means that those children, who are obese, will struggle with weight for the rest of their lives and that isn’t fair. But it isn’t the fault of advertisers, or McDonald’s or anyone outside of the home that these kids are facing this battle. Baring disease (such as in the case with kidney recipients who are forced to take immunosuppressive drugs that can cause rapid weight gain), it is OUR fault, as parents, if our young children are overweight. I get, personally, very little sleep because I have a new baby. So, if I get 5 hours, it’s a miracle. But most nights, I’m getting between 3-4 hours of sleep (the baby is teething, oh joy). I am at work between 8-10 hours, including lunch. I am driving between 1-2 hours (depending on if I have to stop at the store, pick up dry cleaning, go to the bank, etc.). I am nursing. I am cooking. Occasionally, I am cleaning. I am reading bedtime stories. I am giving baths. I am washing clothes. I am nursing. I am 42!!! But even in my sleepy, drained, state, when I stop at Ralph’s on the way home, and my 4 year-old insists he have cereal he saw in a commercial or candy he saw on a bus or chips he saw in a friend's lunch box at his school, if I decide he can’t have it, guess what, HE CAN’T HAVE IT. I don’t care if he cries, screams, promises me I can’t be his “best buddy” ever again, etc., I run the show and no advertiser, no matter how catchy their jingle is, has more power over MY CHILDREN than ME.