Some of you might recall that The Narrator was a picky eater. He still is, but he’s getting better. In the space of three days he tried mozzarella sticks and grilled cheese and liked them both. Yes. I have a (nearly) seven year old boy who would not even TRY grilled cheese until just a few days ago.
He was upset after he ate it too. He was upset that he’d been wrong about not liking it; and cried. Welcome to my weird little world.
The Destroyer has become the challenge. Not because he’s picky like his brother, but because he’s completely forsaking the idea of silverware.
We had an exchange the other night that not only taught me a little about patience, but reinforced professional parenting lessons in regards to specific instructions when engaging children. He was shoveling pasta into his mouth one piece at a time, going so far as to move the fork on his plate out of the way.
Me: “Honey, please use your fork.”
Him: “No thank you.”
Me: “That wasn’t a request. Use your fork.”
Me: “Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and I know you know how to.”
Him: “Oh. Okay.”
I sat back, pleased that the interaction had not only gone my way, but had done so rather painlessly.
Then, I watched as he picked the pasta up off the plate with his fingers, speared several onto his fork, THEN shoved the fork into his mouth, and repeated the process time and again until his dinner was gone…eyeballing me the whole time with a look that said “You didn’t say HOW to use the fork.”
They say that you should pick your battles. I chose to quit the field with honor, even if it was a draw rather than a victory.