And now–a moonlit playground. How are things going? Brilliantly,
actually. Who wouldn’t want to be part of a family like this? (that’s
not even sarcasm, I add, mindful of the day I wrote something like "I
love reading trip trap trip trap in this version of the Billy Goats
Gruff" and and my editor said whoa, that’s a little too snarky even
for you and I said oh, no, actually I meant that.)
I have just been reading a post on Salon about the difficulties of
getting kids to eat right, and the spirit moves me to…
There really isn’t any other word for it, and I’m such a gloaty
gloater on this issue that I absolutely will not do a DoubleX post on
My kids have always been good eaters. (we have been wondering about
Rory but I am convinced she is coming around, although she does LOVE
candy.) I can’t imagine why, because I was that kid–the one who ate
only grilled cheeses, considered French fries a vegetable and wouldn’t
eat pizza because of the tomato sauce. White pizza is still a godsend
to me, actually.
But picky as I was, the one thing I never had was any food hang ups,
and I thought about that for a long time when we first had Sam and
decided that we would just…feed him. What we were eating, without
comment or judgment. He could eat what he wanted off of his plate. And
that’s it. The end of our food rules.
It’s hard, sometimes, especially when, as the Salon writer says "you
like everything in that!". So we do say things, we’re not perfect, but
in general, we offer what we are going to offer. You don’t eat your
dinner? You still get dessert, if there is dessert, but most nights
there isn’t, so don’t count on it. If lunch is a sandwich, apple
slices and an Oreo and you start with the oreo, I won’t say a word. If
you eat only the Oreo I will bite my tongue (and edit the next meal).
Our kids–all of them–eat when they are hungry. If they haven’t
snacked all afternoon and dinner is Thai pork lettuce wraps and
salad… They wi eat Thai pork lettuce wraps and salad. I admit to
being surprised by this. If, as happened yesterday, I say no to all
the baked treats at the farmstand, they get excited about carrots. And
fight over them, and ear them in the car.
I know–I’m gloating. I told you I was. I think it’s weird, to be
honest. I still wouldn’t get excited about a carrot, or eat one for a
snack in the car. But they do.
How did I get this LUCKY?
sent from my iPhone