We have six very distinct personalities living under our roof. Seven if we count the half-feral cat* who adopted us when we moved into this house, but since her issues are not food-related, I’m going to leave her out of this for now. Six unique, individual people each with their own likes, dislikes, quirks, spasms, tastes and laughs. We all tolerate different things in different ways. Like, for instance, I have about ZERO tolerance for the smell of urine. It makes me nuts. It makes my skin crawl and it flicks my “crazy bitch” switch like nothing else. What is mildly unpleasant for most people, eau de piss is my nemesis. Miranda isn’t a fan of dogs, no trauma or dog attacks in her short two-year history with us, but she just does not trust 98% of dogs. Mason does not appreciate getting his hands dirty in many situations – ticks him right off. Paxton turns into an ornery old man if I touch him with dish-water-wet hands. Deacon doesn’t like almost any dish that is casserole or stew-like in nature.
![dinnertime is messy time](http://thekeswickblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/img_9586.jpg?resize=590%2C393)
It did not matter that the pot pie that I made for dinner the other night consisted of EVERY element of Monday’s Thanksgiving dinner (except the cranberry sauce. Because that would be icky.), that he ate, enjoyed and cleaned his plate. Yet, he would not, could not, bring himself to even consider taking a bite of that DELICIOUS (yes, I know it) pot pie. despite the fact that I KNOW that he was starving. And I know that he was starving because we went straight to the park after school, skipping after-school snack, then went on to visit the library and by the time we got home and I got dinner on the table it was just after 7:00pm. Everyone was famished. But he just would not eat it. And to make it even worse, he did not like the homemade Red Lobster-esque cheese biscuits I made to go with said pot pie. Poor Deacon.
The experts say that we are not to offer special menus for our kids when they refuse what we serve. That “it is the parents job to decide when and where to provide the (healthy) food and the childs job to decide if and how much they will eat.” And when that decision is nothing? Well, that just sucks all around. I know that none of my kids will parish from skipping a few meals (although I would be sure to croak very quickly, because I am delicate and fragile and well usually, just really fucking hungry! But I digress), it does make me sad to think of any of them going to bed with a rumbling, empty stomach because I chose to make a dinner that I knew he was unlikely to eat (for whatever reason). So, no special menu. They suggest I offer alternative – but isn’t that the same fucking thing as a special menu? Argh.
And then, when a kid does not eat his dinner (using ‘his’ because I have a surplus of boys around here, but it could just as easily be ‘her’), and snack time rolls around (sometimes very quickly after dinner around here because we try to keep bedtime to 8:00pm), and he asks for an apple like his siblings are having, what do I say? Do I say “No, sorry boy-child. You choose not to eat your dinner so you may not have anything else to eat tonight.” (Which sound a bit on the punitive side – like I’m punishing him for not eating dinner) Or do I say “Yes, you may have an apple.” Thinking that this is a separate issue than dinner? If I let him have a snack am I then sending the message that he’ll still get dessert or snack even if he doesn’t eat his dinner, so he’ll think that dinner is completely optional, can turn his nose up at anything at anytime secure in the knowledge that in half hour or longer, something better will be coming along that he’ll be allowed to eat?
HELP! I don’t want to force anyone to eat something that is completely unpalatable to them (even if they are WRONG and it’s mother-f’ing scrumptious), but I also don’t want to run a diner out of my house, catering to individual moods, tastes, whims, etc. I cook healthy meals. The bonus is that 90% of the time they taste really good and when they don’t I’m the first to admit it and let everyone off the hook and make a killer round of PB&J with a side of fruit and a glass of milk to substitute for a “some crackhead got into my recipe book and changed shit all around so this dish turned out tasting like ass” dinner.
![When dinner tastes like ass](http://thekeswickblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/img_8231.jpg?resize=590%2C423)
What do you guys do? Is it ‘anything goes’ in your house? Is everyone “allowed” to eat what they like and how much they like? Or are meals treated like a chore that they have to complete in order to get to the ‘fun’ stuff (snacks, desserts, freedom, etc.)? When a child gets up from the table to walk around and socialize during a meal, do you give him a warning to stay in his seat and then take his plate on the next offence or do you give endless warnings, chances, and start almost pleading with him to sit down? What was it like in your house growing up? Is your house today similar or the same or have you taken a completely different approach?
Share the post "I need your advice – how do you handle kids and mealtimes and then, please, remind me why we don’t just eat our young?,"
Its eat what was made or eat nothing at all when I was a child. Fruit after dinner was our dessert and then if I ate dinner, i was allowed to share in the junk food that my siblings were having. If I didn’t eat dinner, I got nothing. End of story.
FYI – your kids palates have not developed yet. What do they say – a person needs to try something 20 times before they can truly develop a taste/dislike for it? Heck, I’m still trying to decide if I like lamb regardless of how its cooked. Something about it doesn’t sit well with me but I still try it if its available. I’m finally at the point where I don’t actually gag at the taste of it. I can eat it knowing full well I don’t die from it LOL but I’m still not on the lamb bandwagon. Maybe if it changed its tune?