Club Crabby


It is a tradition in our house (as in many houses with small children so I’ve heard) for our children to go through extreme picky phases with food.

Now that I’m eight years into this parenting experience, I’ve learned to take this particular issue in stride. Having a menu planned out in advance helps, since I can point at the menu and say “It’s what we’re having”.

Tonight’s dinner is quesadillas. Sophie saw me making them and immediately went into tantrum mode.I shrugged it off, smiled and said my usual. After all, she’s pretty much refused to eat all the meals I’ve cooked in the last two weeks – except the boxed mac n cheese we ate on Tuesday.

After a few minutes, I caved when she said she’d rather have rice (brown rice already cooked and in the fridge) with a slice of cheese. I’m not *always* *completely* unreasonable, so I shrugged my shoulders and heated it up. We are headed out to swim team practice in a few minutes, and I secretly wanted her to eat something before her workout.

The moment the plates hit the table, the tune changed to “I hate rice. I want quesadilla!” Dammit, after eight years of parenting, I really do know better than to fall into that trap. She’s eating the rice, under much protest.

Again, let me point out that she’s clearly not in the middle of a growth spurt and is neither fat nor skinny. I am not depriving her in any real way.

I think I’ll wait for dinner till they’re asleep and I can eat whatever I choose to throw together in peace.

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