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I’m a truth-telling mom, most of the time. I don’t shy away from the tough topics, and my 3-year-old daughter knows more about the uterus than the average adult male. But when it comes to my vegetarianism, I’m a big fat liar.

I never meant to be a vegetarian. As a small child, I made the connection between the cute animals at the farm and ones on my plate and vehemently refused to eat them anymore.

farm animals on plate big

My mom indulged me, working hard to find alternative sources of protein so I wouldn’t stunt my growth. This wasn’t easy in the pre-Whole Foods 1970s, so props to her. That said, I am only 5’2”.

As a grown-up, I still love animals, but I’m fine with people eating them, especially the humanely raised cage-free sorts. Unfortunately, after decades of avoidance, I’ve completely lost my taste for burgers and wings. Most meat — even the leanest, most ladylike chicken breast, is totally gross to me.

However, I feel strongly that animal protein is an important part of a balanced diet for a growing child, and I’ve bent over backwards to become a mom who may not eat meat but cooks it with a smile. This is sometimes a little scary, because I’m serving my daughter food I haven’t personally sampled (hello, Salmonella?). Luckily, my husband is usually willing to be her royal taster.

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