As I type this, I am sitting at the dinner table. I actually cooked tonight--meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas. (Write it down.) Henry just said, "Dang it. Dang it, Gracie stuck" because I literally just had to shake the bumbo seat off her fat body. (Yes. He says "Dang it." Perhaps this is the phrase I should have given up for lent...)
So why am I blogging at the dinner table? Why is Sloan facebooking on his Blackberry? Because we have a little boy who won't even try his dinner.* Not even with the opportunity to dip it in kethcup. He has, however, eaten 4 spoonfuls of ketchup. We're not even telling him he has to clean his plate. He just has to try one bite of each item. He refuses. Sloan tried to feed him a spoonful of mashed taters and he drooled it out. Pit. E. Ful. I'm not trying to be that psyhco mom who makes her kid eat stuff, it is just that I know that he will like all of the things on his plate if he only breaks down and tries them. We've told him we will sit at the table and wait until he tries a bite of each until it is bedtime. If he hasn't tried his dinner, there will be no Thomas or Lightning McQueen stories. Just toothbrushing and then lights out.
But thanks to wifi, a new laptop, and a chubby bunny now sitting in my lap, waiting until your kid eats his dinner just got a whole lot easier.
*I blame my mother for this. She prayed I would have children like me. When I was a kid, I could go days without breaking down. My mom would serve me the same food over and over until it rotted. I will not be serving him meatloaf for breakfast. I seriously never ate cucumbers until college out of spite. Stupid. Cucumbers are awesome.
No comments:
Post a Comment