When I was a kid, not much older than Kate, I first learned where beef came from. I was horrified. After asking about other meats, I was completely traumatized by the fact that I'd been
eating animals. I didn't eat meat again, without threat of sitting at the table for hours, for over 20 years. In fact, I became a vegetarian as soon as I moved away from home.
It wasn't until struggling with infertility and being told by a doctor that I needed to eat meat for protein and iron that I slowly introduced some meat into my diet. I was desperate to do whatever I could to get pregnant. So, I began with breaded fish, since it didn't really resemble an animal, but it still took all my energy to convince myself that I was eating a delicious food item and not an animal. It slowly got easier and easier until it became habit to block the animal from my mind.
Believing that meat was necessary for protein and iron, we raised Kate and Anna eating meat. I carefully avoided the topic of where meat comes from, knowing that they wouldn't eat it if they knew. I distinctly remember a comment Kate made a couple years ago. She contemplated how some words can mean two things, "Like fish," she explained, "can mean something that swims in water or it can mean a food." As much as I try to always be completely honest, I just smiled and let that go.
In the last several months, I once again started to let myself think about what I was eating. Little by little, I realized I didn't want to block the truth from my mind anymore. I began to read about what goes on in factory farming and I read more about nutrition. I found that what I'd believed about needing to eat meat for protein and iron wasn't true. I learned I could be healthy, healthier in fact, without eating meat. There was no reason to do something I didn't feel comfortable doing any longer.
After quitting eating meat myself, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't right for me to deceive Kate. I wouldn't give her graphic details, and I would do it gently, but I would tell her the truth.
I sat down with her and quietly asked, "Do you know where meat comes from?"
She replied, "Animals."
I figured she thought animals, like,
made the meat for us or something. I tentatively asked, "Do you know
how we get meat from animals?"
She immediately replied, in a very common sense way, "Shoot them."
I shuddered. Wow. She's wasn't confused at all. Nodding, I asked, "How do you feel about that?"
She shrugged, "Well... we've got to have food!"
Who was this kid? This was
so not how I thought this conversation would go. So, I continued, "Well, there are lots of foods that don't come from animals, lots of delicious, healthy foods. You know, Mommy doesn't eat foods from animals anymore."
Kate thought for a second, and then said, "Yeah, well it's not like that's going to stop them from shooting animals."
Um... okay... yeah. I had no idea what else to say. I actually wondered if Dave had talked with her first. It turns out he hadn't. But, there's no question she's Dave's kid.
After learning more about the effects of animal protein on our bodies and more about the dairy industry, I decided to try cutting out dairy. Dave is convinced this is crazy, so I decided to make it a non-issue for the girls. I'd continue to give the girls milk, cheese, yogurt, and cottage cheese like always. But, Kate asked me several times why I drink rice milk instead of cows' milk and soy yogurt instead of "regular" yogurt. Each time she asked a question, I gave her a little more information. At first I simply said that I was going to have rice milk instead. After she asked more about why I didn't want cows' milk, I told her that milk is what mommy cows make for their babies. After she asked more questions, I explained that the baby cows are taken away from their mommies and given bottles, and I thought it was sad. Later I told her that mommy cows miss their babies. And, eventually, after a week and after a bunch of questions about the baby cows, I finally confessed that some of the boy baby cows get killed when they're young to make a meat called veal. She certainly wasn't traumatized as I was when I learned about veal, but cows getting killed when they were still "kids" was the first thing that even gave her pause.
The next day, we were shopping at Trader Joes, and I picked up a pack of Smart Dogs, tofu hot dogs, which, for the record, I wouldn't recommend. Kate said, "Those aren't the right hotdogs."
I said, "These hotdogs are special. They make them from vegetables, like veggie burgers. In order to make the hotdogs we used to get, they have to kill pigs. They don't have to kill any animals to make
these. Let's try them and see if we like them."
My always sweet, compliant little girl had had enough. Completely out of character, she stopped and loudly said, "No! I want the pig hotdogs."
I was shocked, "Honey!" I bent down by her and looked her in the eyes, trying to think of what to say.
Before I thought of anything to say, she asked, "How old are the pigs when they kill them?"
I remembered the conversation the day before. I told her, "They're grown ups."
Her whole face brightened and she exclaimed, "That's perfect! Please can we get the pig hotdogs!"
Anna asked for more pasta. I said, "I'll get you more pasta as soon as you eat your broccoli." She took one bite, and said she'd eaten her broccoli. I said, "Good start! Just finish that up, and I'll get you more pasta." 
