I’m a dietitian. My kids still eat store-bought PB&Js for lunch — and have no guilt.

I’m a registered dietitian, a career I chose after becoming a mom.

I thought for sure when it came time to start packing school lunches, I would be the one all the other moms looked to for inspiration.

I’d have all the answers and tips and tricks, and I’d be the one making those picture-perfect lunches.

You know, the kind we all save on our Pinterest boards for that back-to-school inspo.

Turns out, that couldn’t be further from reality.

My kids ride the bus in the morning, and they wake up super early.

I wake up before them to make sure everything is packed and ready to take out the door.

It’s still pitch black outside when we wake up, and there’s only a finite amount of time to make sure the to-do list is all checked off before heading out for school.

As a working mom of two kids, ages 7 and 9, life can get pretty hectic.

There are a gazillion things to balance between work, school, after-school activities, sports, and the day-to-day duties of running a house.

Even at the end of the day, there isn’t that much time with everyone’s schedules.

Nutrition is always at the front of my mind.

But that doesn’t mean I’m packing gourmet meals or cutting cucumbers into stars or sandwiches into hearts.

There are, however, several things that I prioritize when it comes to packed lunches.

It doesn’t have to all be homemade.

My kids just have to be fed well, and to me, that means making sure the categories I want to include are covered: protein, fiber-rich carbohydrates, fruits and veggies, and healthy fats.

Repetition is a common feature even in adult eating patterns.

That doesn’t necessarily make our diets less nutritious.

We’re creatures of habit after all, and all of us have our preferences.

As a dietitian mom, my job is to expose my kids to a variety of foods.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean that all those exposures must happen inside the lunchbox.

We don’t need to stress ourselves out with an expectation of perfection and add even more decision fatigue when we’re already juggling a million other things.

Not every lunch needs to be unique or an artistic masterpiece.

I tend to repeat the same foods and products in my kids’ lunchboxes, and I rotate the sides and snacks.

I know what my kids will reliably eat, and I also know what might be a stretch.

In fact, I recommend shortcuts all the time to my clients when helping them improve their diets, because convenience supports consistency and the creation of healthy habits.

Some of the shortcuts I use include grab-n-go PB&Js, or bean-based pastas (I’ll usually toss in peas for an easy boost of veggies and color), minimally processed store-bought items like freeze-dried fruit or single-ingredient fruit snacks, low-sugar yogurt, GoGo squeeZ, or a mini Perfect Bar.

I also use time-saving kitchen tools such as a multi-purpose food chopper for fruits and veggies, and a dedicated egg steamer for quick hard-boiled eggs.

I lean heavily on reliable, ready-made items that I know will get eaten and reduce stress.

I’m far from perfect, but I know my kids are getting balanced lunches, and most importantly, they’re actually eating them (most of the time).

As an RD, I had this self-imposed expectation that I should optimize every lunch, because as a nutrition professional, shouldn’t I set the example?

The reality is, I’m also just a mom trying to nourish these little humans who I love more than anything.

I tell my own clients all the time, there is no such thing as perfection, so why hold myself to an impossible standard?

If I’m prioritizing nutritious foods, and the dietary categories I know my kids need (fruits, veggies, protein, healthy fats, adequate fiber) are making their way into their lunchboxes, then I feel like I’m doing a good job.

My packed lunches won’t end up on Pinterest, and that’s totally OK with me.

If you’re a mom who creates Disney-themed bento boxes, makes everything from scratch, and cuts all your fruits, veggies, and mains into adorable shapes, I tip my hat to you.

That’s just not happening in my house, and I’ve stopped feeling like it should.