Chicken Pot Pie

Chicken pot pie? 

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Well, I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I have been a picky eater ALL MY LIFE!  No amount of “you have to take two more bites” or “you have to at least try it” or “you will sit at the table until you eat your dinner” ever changed that.

EVER.

I’m lucky in a way….or at least my son is….because I remember.  I remember how it felt to be forced to take a bite – to try something that visually made me want to vomit.

I remember.

Battling over food is just so…

pointless

hurtful

defeating

a lose/lose situation. 

Sure, there are things that I really think my son would like if he would just try it.  On my less than mindful days this can be very frustrating.  I don’t push, though.   I don’t make him try anything.  We have dialogue about food and trying new things and I let him know I’m confident he will try new things when he is ready.  I offer healthy options that I know he will eat (along with new items from time to time), and I allow him to decide what and how much of it he eats.

Today we were shopping and he spotted a fruit smoothie type drink that he wanted to try.  Sure!  He took the drink off the shelf and said,
“I’m afraid I don’t want to try it.”

“That’s fine.  What would you like to do?”

He put the drink back then turned to me for a hug with a face that was about to burst into tears.

“I’m sad because I really want to try it, but I can’t.”

Heartbreaking.

“I’m confident you will try it when you are ready.  Would you like to get it and open it and I will be here with you until you are ready?”


“Yes, Mommy.”

So we sat.

And sat.

And sat.

And sat.

Right there, in the outer aisle of the store, until he was ready.
(Yes, I recognize that there is not always time for this type of waiting.)

He tried it.

He liked it.

He almost cried hugging me afterwards.

“I’m so proud of myself, Mommy.”

“I bet you are.”

My dear son:

For all those meals where you examine your food;  For the nights where you choose not to eat that hamburger patty because “it has some nasty squishy stuff on it”;  For those moments when you smell your food before eating it; for those mornings when your pancakes look “too toasted” to eat.

I SEE YOU, LITTLE MAN.

I REMEMBER.

I UNDERSTAND.  

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