22 August 2011
It's been annoying us for a while. Actually it's been doing my head in. Our kids are becoming such fussy eaters that they are barely eating anything. At the moment we have on board, which is unusual because some of them are difficult to get: pumpkin, carrots, breadfruit, green beans, cabbage bananas, papaya, pamplemousse and onions. Will our kids eat any of the above? Well, they might be persuaded to have a piece of carrot, if it is raw, but other than that, nada. I should say, rien. When did they become so fussy? I know they've never been the best eaters, but this is getting ridiculous. We've tried the 'just try a bit' approach. We've tried the 'you're not getting down until you've eaten it all' approach. We've tried the 'ignore it and it'll get better' approach. Already, the speech therapist part of me is seeing we've not been that consistent! But it was the final straw yesterday, and I think most parents would have been in this boat at some point in their parenting career. They're so bloody ungrateful when you pass them their plate. They screw up their face as though I'm presenting them with a plateful of spiders on toast. So, today, Mark and I went on strike. If they wanted food, they had to get it themselves today. They made themselves pancakes for breakfast, though Lochy opted for just one today when he usually has 3, the effort being just a little too much like hard work. I'm not even sure what they had for lunch as by that point I was hyperventilating on the bow of the boat as a result of them leaving it so long to get lunch they were nearly killing each other. Not your problem, says Mark. When I suggested that they may want to start thinking about dinner a little earlier than when they get hungry, they start sifting through the recipe books for inspiration. Lochy starts with the baking book of cakes and biscuits. Mia starts with Reader's digest annual cookery book ("what season is it , Mum? Do we have rhubarb?") Once I subtley point out the kid's cookery book and suggest they make pizzas for dinner, they were off. We didn't help them once, except to turn on the oven and help clear up the litre of olive oil Lochy accidentally spilt on the floor. And they ate them all up. Without so much of a moan. Then we made them wash all the dishes.