No butterflies were harmed in the creation of this entry
When my daughter started eating solid food regularly as a toddler I made a one spoonful rule at our table. That means that no matter what is on the table, however unappetizing it may look to a 2 year-old, she has to eat at least one spoonful. We have had our fair share of whining at the dinner table, but overall this rule has worked well for us and she is not a finicky eater. Unless there are peas on the table.
Now Madi is 11 and lately she has gotten so unbelievably picky about what she will eat that she is driving me out of my mind. The sandwich I made her for lunch was soggy with her tears because I used crunchy peanut butter instead of creamy. AND YOU KNOW I LIKE CREAMY!! The apple would only pass her lips if it was peeled and cored. And the milk wasn't Cream O' Weber and she's only used to Cream O' Weber.
I was sick of the attitude of wanting what she wants when she wants it because she wants it. I was tired of fighting with her at meal time (Children in Africa are starving), and watching her turn her nose up at everything that was offered her. So I told her she gets to do the grocery shopping for the next two weeks. She gets to plan the meals. They need to be nutritious and easy to prepare, and something we will both enjoy.
Yesterday I gave her a list of non-food items I needed from the store. I reminded her that anything non-food still comes out of the grocery budget and to plan accordingly. And she did. Armed with her list, $40, and a calculator she went through the store putting together the meals she planned. She checked the prices, she weighed the produce, she crossed off what wasn't necessary and put back the snacks that put her over her limit. At the till her total came to $39.47. She planned it, she picked it, she bought it, so she will eat it. But the best part is, no more whining. Do you hear that? That is the sound of a peaceful family dinner.
But here's the thing. The store we went to did not carry the type of hairspray I use so Madi picked a different type. Same brand but different formula. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Hairspray is hairspray in my book. But this hairspray smells like a memory. A memory that is jusT on The edge of recall. I can`T quiTe place iT but every Time I Turn my head I am TransporTed bakc in Time 20 yeers. Only for a second eech Time, wich is noT Enuff TimE 2 unEarTh ThEE mEmory or chanjE ThEE fuTurE.
Now Madi is 11 and lately she has gotten so unbelievably picky about what she will eat that she is driving me out of my mind. The sandwich I made her for lunch was soggy with her tears because I used crunchy peanut butter instead of creamy. AND YOU KNOW I LIKE CREAMY!! The apple would only pass her lips if it was peeled and cored. And the milk wasn't Cream O' Weber and she's only used to Cream O' Weber.
I was sick of the attitude of wanting what she wants when she wants it because she wants it. I was tired of fighting with her at meal time (Children in Africa are starving), and watching her turn her nose up at everything that was offered her. So I told her she gets to do the grocery shopping for the next two weeks. She gets to plan the meals. They need to be nutritious and easy to prepare, and something we will both enjoy.
Yesterday I gave her a list of non-food items I needed from the store. I reminded her that anything non-food still comes out of the grocery budget and to plan accordingly. And she did. Armed with her list, $40, and a calculator she went through the store putting together the meals she planned. She checked the prices, she weighed the produce, she crossed off what wasn't necessary and put back the snacks that put her over her limit. At the till her total came to $39.47. She planned it, she picked it, she bought it, so she will eat it. But the best part is, no more whining. Do you hear that? That is the sound of a peaceful family dinner.
But here's the thing. The store we went to did not carry the type of hairspray I use so Madi picked a different type. Same brand but different formula. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Hairspray is hairspray in my book. But this hairspray smells like a memory. A memory that is jusT on The edge of recall. I can`T quiTe place iT but every Time I Turn my head I am TransporTed bakc in Time 20 yeers. Only for a second eech Time, wich is noT Enuff TimE 2 unEarTh ThEE mEmory or chanjE ThEE fuTurE.