So there I was, Smug Parent.
Sitting there chuffed about how my child eats this and that and the other.
How she never had added sugar or salt until she was beyond 1.
How she didn’t like sweets or lollipops (she really didn’t!).
How she only got a biscuit the odd day and an ice cream in her Grandparents. Once a week I’d treat her to a brownie in the local cafe and she’d have some popcorn for Saturday movie night.
Packing her lunchbox with loads of raw pepper and cucumber and berries.
And then it happened.
Opinionated. Obnoxious. Out of control.
Oh suddenly she loves sweets.
Every day: Is it goodie Friday? Can I have a goodie?
At first I didn’t think it was too bad.
I’d give her a biscuit or some juice.
Ah sure! It’s the end of the Summer.
No, Laura. This is it forever now.
You’d think that it wasn’t so bad having a ‘biccie’ here and there, wouldn’t you?
Then what happens when every single meal becomes a torturous repetitive argument?
The rule we have is, no goodies until we’ve eaten our healthy food.
I have repeated to her that healthy food is for nourishment whilst goodies are for enjoyment.
That’s irrelevant to her though. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are boring, yet she won’t eat new food, grainy food, sauce-y food or lumpy food.
Although she recently took to Cheerios. Great, after three years of her not liking sugary cereal she’s all open minded to it. Then of course I think of Nestle and how I shouldn’t be buying Nestle if I want to be ethical and then I realise that if it was chocolate I wouldn’t give a fiddlers fart about ethics so I bought the damn Cheerios and now my head is melted that my child is eating sugary cereal after years of eating wholemeal toast, quail eggs and fruit for breakfast. (Insert swear worded outburst here).
She used to love spag bol, lasagne, stew, fish pie, shep pie and all sorts of easy family meals. Now, the first thing she does when I put the plate in front of her is tell me what she doesn’t want.
(Insert exploding parent’s head here)
Every day I say ‘ Just focus on what you do want to eat’.
Anyway… I’m going off on one now.
So the moral of the story is, just go hide under the stairs, drink wine and eat chocolate.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh?