Monday
I spent 40 minutes making a vegetable lentil stew for my children. It was delicious. But Violet declared it was “too spicy”, though there were 0 heat spices in the thing, and so neither of them ate it.
I made biscuits ( *made* is a strong word, I only went through the trouble of liberating them in dough form from their cardboard tubal prison) and Violet- who loves these exact biscuits- declared they “looked weird” when you pulled them apart, and so neither child ate them either.
Dinner ended up being banana spice muffins because they were made with fruit and therefor better than nothing- or certainly better than having them beg for snacks every twenty minutes until bedtime.
The previous night’s dinner was Ramen noodles and vitamins. It was an eighth of the effort of the stew and everyone was happy.
Lesson learned.
Wednesday
I try to find ways around the kid’s picky eating.
Once I paired sweet corn and this mac and cheese with bug shaped noodles because both foods are yellow. I told them it was “Pikachu food”. Worked like a charm. Although I did have to listen to impossibly high- pitched yellings of, “Pika! Pika! PIKACHU!” throughout dinner.
Tonight’s toddler feeding trick: Belly Bats.
Once she’s established that she’s not touching ANY of the food on her plate, Lillian can sometimes be convinced with the ol’ ‘spoon train’- you know the whole “Open up, here comes the choo-choo train!” deal. When that stops working, I can sometimes turn to the ‘spoon slide’. It’s a similar concept, I just raise the spoon up higher and then make it go down the invisible slide that ends just passed her teeth.
But she wasn’t having any of that, so I pretended the spoon was a bat trying to get into the cave of her mouth so it could join it’s bat buddies that were hanging out in her belly. This method requires far more of me screeching loudly and making jaunty hand movements, but whatever works, man.
Whatever. Works.
Thursday
Today was a lesson in super A+ parenting :
For dinner, I was supposed to have the leftover tasty-but-apparently- too -spicy -for- the- children lentil soup that I made the other night.
I was looking forward to that soup.
However, in the midst of getting the children each their dinners and doling out pots and pans and spatulas and spoons for their requested pre-dinner entertainment, I managed to flip the ENTIRE vat of thankfully still cold soup all over myself, the stove, the cupboards, inside a drawer and, of course, all over the floor.
The soup somehow reached 7 feet in every direction.
The kids are set with their noodles, but I find myself with the problem of no food for myself. I mean, I *could* find something to throw together, but that’s so much more work than I had planned.
Using more food to make a whole new dinner also would cost money. Does money grow on trees now? My whole life tells me no, it does NOT.
This wine though was just sitting there possibly going to waste in however many years. I picked it up at the store tonight. It was a rescue!
Anyway as I am drinking this on an empty stomach, I’ve forgotten the lesson here, but there is one. Probably. I don’t know. Cheers.
