Feed Me, Seymour!

Before I begin, I must point out that the title of this post is appropriate, as I did open a vein for my oldest child last year at the blood drive his science class sponsored as part of a unit on--you guessed it!--blood. So, I've been singing that song to him ever since and milking it for all it's worth. But, rather than blood, this diatribe is about children and food (although, that topic leaves me feeling out for blood at times!).

The first thing you should know is that I like to cook. I've even thought about becoming a chef (then I start thinking about the working hours and contemplating the idea that your 20's really is the best time to "pay your dues"). My husband, who burst forth from his father's forehead defiling McDonalds and somehow managed to grow up in the 60's and 70's without ever being forced to eat an overcooked vegetable, likes my cooking, and has even decided that brussel sprouts are extremely edible the way I make them. During the first years of our marriage, having company come to visit was always fun because it gave me a chance to try new recipes. And when we traveled? New restaurants, new foods, daring culinary adventures.

Then came the children. Let me begin by saying that these cannot be children of mine because they think stuffing is disgusting, and I consider that opinion to be an abomination. Things went OK for the first few years. Our oldest ate pretty much everything, but, in retrospect, we probably never made him eat anything he didn't ask for himself. For example, I didn't FORCE him to eat duck. I made him something else, he ended up eating half of the duck on our plates, and, after that, professed to like duck and demanded to be included in all duck-eating activities. And, since I was working, and my husband and I were low-carbing a lot, dinner was quite often a (nicely cooked and presented) meat/fish and a plain vegetable. If it was something that took longer (i.e. it had ingredients and flavorings), I very often gave Thing 1 something easy to make while our dinner was cooking so he didn't have to wait until 8 pm to eat. Needless to say, he doesn't have a problem with meat or fish, eats almost every vegetable out there (except the leafy kind), and has a particular affinity for (whole wheat) cheese toast with steamed zucchini.

It was when Thing 2 came along that it all went downhill. I really don't think Thing 1 realized that it was possible for him to complain about his food. And, as I said above, I don't think that we ever gave him anything to complain about. But, when a new baby comes, you start making things like big pots of chili, or large casseroles that get multi-night appearances. He also hit first grade around the same time that his baby brother entered Toddler Pickiness, so I imagine he started hearing about "yucky" and "disgusting" food in the cafeteria and at home all in one fell swoop. That Thanksgiving was the year he accused me of hiding spinach in the green beans (it was HERBS!). The era of food dissection had emerged, and it was a long time before we managed to stop our little scientist from doing a forensic analysis of his dinner.

Today, there is at least one child who doesn't like what I cook for dinner almost every night. I've learned to ignore it because most of the meals that they ALL like are things like hot dogs and chicken nuggets (although, for whatever reason, half-whole-wheat pasta with green olive sauce has a 100% acceptance rate). So, I'll push the envelope for a few days, and then give them something they all like. I'll generally ask each of them to suggest a meal for the week, and I'll make sure that no one is being served something they detest two nights in a row. They know we don't short-order cook for them, so they grin and bear it. We sometimes make them take a bite if it's a new food that they are simply rejecting on principal, but we don't push it if we know it's something they just don't like. After all, I don't make lima beans because I don't like them. Why should the kids be forced to choke down something they don't like when, overall, they eat a lot more than a lot of kids I hear about?

So, all in all, things are getting better. Thing 3 eats almost everything. In fact, he's the one who caused a bow wave of improvement in food acceptability around here ("Your baby brother is eating it! Why don't YOU try it, too?"). Thing 1 has a few things he's picky about, but he's old enough now that he's learned to be polite about what he doesn't like. He still has a knee-jerk reaction to beans, which we're trying to coax him out of through bean exposure--my husband and I love them and, when I realized that I was avoiding making things like chili or other bean-containing dishes even though WE liked them, I decided that Tween Boy was old enough to shut up and deal. Thing 2 proves my theory that some kids are just born picky, and, other than serving different foods and exposing them to them, there's not much about it that parenting can fix. But, at least he eats all of his vegetables, is learning to like salad, and will happily have a vegetarian platter if he doesn't like the main dish. I swear, he'd be a vegetarian if his diet could include sausage and pepperoni.

And that's my silver lining for today.