My daughter eats sausages and sweets, I don't think vegetables will do it
Children have a weird relationship with food. Some more than others, and my daughter is one of them!
At two years old, I was already enjoying Cantal and Camembert, which had earned me the nickname of glutton. My husband, he eats absolutely everything that is edible from near or far, as long as it is on his plate, or that of his table neighbors. Logically, our descendants could only have inherited our voracious genes.
We were going to HA-BI-KILL our children from the earliest age to eat everything WITHOUT GIVING THEM A CHOICE.
If you are familiar with Daronnie yourself, you suspect that things did not happen like that and that no spirit is freer than that of a toddler, so lick the glue envelopes because it tastes sweet ok, but then my organic leek patties, I can put them where I think.
The baby, a greedy little being without being a gourmet
When the baby arrives, we are obsessed with their food. It's completely normal and natural since we have to ensure the survival of the thing, but still, we're obsessed with it. I have read that breastfeeding is the best way to feed your child. I had a hard time understanding why, since all the formula-fed children seemed perfectly healthy and I was blessed with unlimited access to very clean drinking water, but I was nulliparous and I was well aware of the crass ignorance of my species.
Months of exclusive breastfeeding later, the child was introduced to his first bottle of milk, which caused me an unprecedented wave of anguish: he would never accept, he would cry, he would would feel betrayed, in short I was going to break the baby because I had been too lazy to express my milk the day before.
With no news from the crèche, I realized the obvious: the baby had been poisoned and no one had yet had the courage to warn me. Do you think, the ungrateful glutton had whistled his powdered milk enthusiastically before falling asleep peacefully. And I'm not even talking about diversification, because what's better than a small first-price industrial pot? Certainly not mom's organic recipes taken from Instagram.
Fortunately, around the age of one, my child enters a phase that will last about 10 minutes where he enthusiastically eats absolutely everything that I present to him. Sauerkraut, salsify, dumplings, and sometimes everything that I don't present to him, because if we believe the babies, nothing is more divine than the cat's kibble and the dust of the sandbox.
The toddler: but how does he manage to survive?
I thought that when we didn't eat enough, we fell into a state of weakness such that even standing up became a challenge. If I believe my 4-year-old child who jumps on my bed at 6:30 a.m. and does not stop fidgeting until around 8 p.m., starvation and apathy are absolutely unrelated.
I don't know how my child manages to survive since she systematically refuses almost everything I offer her, except if it's sausage, candies or cakes. It's different there. This fairly restricted and, in my opinion, not very nutritious diet does not fit very well with my values, which require that I ensure my daughter's good health.
No matter how much I got used to it since baby, cooking in front of it, exposing it to the best (basically anything edible), nothing helped. Culinary transmission has not (yet) taken place. And it's hard. Sometimes a miracle happens and she agrees to swallow her green beans. I tell myself that I can manage with that and give the insignificant stick the role of “generic green vegetable” which will give me the impression that my daughter is eating a balanced diet. I rush to the organic grocery store (obviously) and build up a rather whimsical supply of beans. Of course, no sooner had the 10 kilos of beans passed our doorstep than my daughter began to show extreme revulsion at the sight of the food.
But how do I make them swallow something?
I don't admit defeat so easily and I don't hesitate to use trickery by hiding a miserable finely chopped carrot in 1 kilo of pasta. butter. I must have forgotten for a moment that my daughter certainly has a rather personal logic which allows me to affirm without the slightest doubt that she is totally crazy, but in terms of intelligence and flair, it arises there. The vegetable hideout, we don't do it.
I then try to explain to him that the vitamins in carrots are good for children. I try a ride on the slippery slope of infantile guilt by explaining to the creature that if it does not eat its vegetables it will fall ill and that it will make me very sad, but its general state already worries it very little, so imagine the mine.
In desperation, I try an old-timer: “If you don’t eat, I take it you’re not hungry and I won’t give you dessert.” Overall, this threat observes much better results than the aforementioned techniques, as long as you have 6 hours in front of you to devote to a ruthless mental showdown. Which is absolutely not my case. I am well advanced.
While I am in the park, my daughter presents me with a dead leaf on which she has placed slush and gravel. "Here mom, look at what I cooked, taste, it's so good! she exclaims before miming a delighted fang. When I think that his infamous grub is worth more to him than my vegetable pasta, I understand that I can't fight and I finally agree to submit to Messeigneurs Knackis and rice with ketchup. Amen.
To read also: My child likes ugly clothes, should I let him?
Image in one: Pexels/Polina Kholodova
