"Oh boy, pico de gallo. They sure don't make it like this in Ohio."
It finally happened; we went out to eat, and Abbie didn’t eat a thing. I assume that this is a milestone every child hits, like blowing out a diaper or learning to talk. I just wish Abbie would have learned to talk before hitting this picky eater milestone.
I didn’t really want to eat out tonight. Money is tight as always and we’ve got a refrigerator full of leftovers that should be eaten soon, like chunky spaghetti sauce, green spotted pork chops, and white fuzzy chili. I had several chores I wanted to accomplish tonight though, and the only way we can do everything these days is to plan a grand excursion around mealtime on the road. Ideally, I’d like to feed the twins, pack up everybody, complete my chores, and return in time to feed the twins again without stopping somewhere to feed everyone whose diet consists of more than milk. The twins still eat so frequently though, that by the time we wake them, feed them, change them, and pack everybody up, it’s almost time to feed them and start the cycle anew.
So we just threw everybody in the car right after naptime and let whatever happens happen. What happened was we were right next to a favorite yet rarely visited Mexican restaurant when hunger struck Ellie. Never mind that it was several minutes before our regularly scheduled suppertime, or that Abbie was just finishing the bowl of Goldfish I gave her as a snack, it was suppertime.
We walked into the restaurant, and heard the greeter’s standard question, “How many in your party?” There was a time when we could answer with a simple number, “two.” Later we had to give a slightly more complicated response, “two plus a highchair.” Tonight my answer was “the two of us, plus a highchair, and we need someplace to set these two.”
We settled into our six-seat booth, and pored over the menu. Deciding upon the adult meals was the easy part, we needed to find something for Abbie to eat. They had chicken fingers that she’d probably eat, but I was reluctant to order those; it’s important to me that she eats a variety of foods, and I’d prefer that she eat something suitable to the ethnicity of the restaurant we’re patronizing instead of her fattening favorite of fried chicken everywhere we eat. Plus she already ate McNuggets earlier in the day.
We decided upon a platter with a taco, beans, and rice, knowing that those are all foods she’d eaten in the past. Maybe not the entire taco, but she’d eaten the scooped out innards with a spoon while leaving the shell, which is close enough.
We used to be able to feed her nothing but pico de gallo in Mexican restaurants, so the taco meal should be a feast for her. Of course, that was when Abbie was younger, and before she’d developed independence and a taste for McNuggets. We loaded a spoon and held the handle out for her to grab as is her mealtime wont these days, and she shoved it away. We then took the spoon and tried dumping it in her mouth, but she emphatically shoved it all away. I’d figured she’d get hungry enough to try it eventually, but she never did, instead spending her time crawling back and forth under the table and engaging in booth bouncing contests with the toddler across the room. Finally I held her down and tried putting a spoonful of beans in her mouth, but all that accomplished was smearing beans on her face and eventually her sleeve.
The meal ended with her not having eaten a thing, not counting the water she drank, though the only reason she tried that was the glass with a straw sticking out of it fooled her into thinking it was soda pop. Still, I wasn’t too upset. I thought she might not eat much, so I ordered a light meal or myself in anticipation of eating some of hers; the two adults at the table managed to finish most of her meal, and we wouldn’t want to waste food since I’ve heard that bad things can happen to families who waste restaurant food. I feared that she might start screaming from hunger soon, but the Goldfish and water kept her satiated until we returned home and I could give her a suitable meal of peanut butter and broccoli.* Best of all, her taco meal cost less than the McNuggets anyway.
* Broccoli she’ll eat. Tacos? Not so much.
I didn’t really want to eat out tonight. Money is tight as always and we’ve got a refrigerator full of leftovers that should be eaten soon, like chunky spaghetti sauce, green spotted pork chops, and white fuzzy chili. I had several chores I wanted to accomplish tonight though, and the only way we can do everything these days is to plan a grand excursion around mealtime on the road. Ideally, I’d like to feed the twins, pack up everybody, complete my chores, and return in time to feed the twins again without stopping somewhere to feed everyone whose diet consists of more than milk. The twins still eat so frequently though, that by the time we wake them, feed them, change them, and pack everybody up, it’s almost time to feed them and start the cycle anew.
So we just threw everybody in the car right after naptime and let whatever happens happen. What happened was we were right next to a favorite yet rarely visited Mexican restaurant when hunger struck Ellie. Never mind that it was several minutes before our regularly scheduled suppertime, or that Abbie was just finishing the bowl of Goldfish I gave her as a snack, it was suppertime.
We walked into the restaurant, and heard the greeter’s standard question, “How many in your party?” There was a time when we could answer with a simple number, “two.” Later we had to give a slightly more complicated response, “two plus a highchair.” Tonight my answer was “the two of us, plus a highchair, and we need someplace to set these two.”
We settled into our six-seat booth, and pored over the menu. Deciding upon the adult meals was the easy part, we needed to find something for Abbie to eat. They had chicken fingers that she’d probably eat, but I was reluctant to order those; it’s important to me that she eats a variety of foods, and I’d prefer that she eat something suitable to the ethnicity of the restaurant we’re patronizing instead of her fattening favorite of fried chicken everywhere we eat. Plus she already ate McNuggets earlier in the day.
We decided upon a platter with a taco, beans, and rice, knowing that those are all foods she’d eaten in the past. Maybe not the entire taco, but she’d eaten the scooped out innards with a spoon while leaving the shell, which is close enough.
We used to be able to feed her nothing but pico de gallo in Mexican restaurants, so the taco meal should be a feast for her. Of course, that was when Abbie was younger, and before she’d developed independence and a taste for McNuggets. We loaded a spoon and held the handle out for her to grab as is her mealtime wont these days, and she shoved it away. We then took the spoon and tried dumping it in her mouth, but she emphatically shoved it all away. I’d figured she’d get hungry enough to try it eventually, but she never did, instead spending her time crawling back and forth under the table and engaging in booth bouncing contests with the toddler across the room. Finally I held her down and tried putting a spoonful of beans in her mouth, but all that accomplished was smearing beans on her face and eventually her sleeve.
The meal ended with her not having eaten a thing, not counting the water she drank, though the only reason she tried that was the glass with a straw sticking out of it fooled her into thinking it was soda pop. Still, I wasn’t too upset. I thought she might not eat much, so I ordered a light meal or myself in anticipation of eating some of hers; the two adults at the table managed to finish most of her meal, and we wouldn’t want to waste food since I’ve heard that bad things can happen to families who waste restaurant food. I feared that she might start screaming from hunger soon, but the Goldfish and water kept her satiated until we returned home and I could give her a suitable meal of peanut butter and broccoli.* Best of all, her taco meal cost less than the McNuggets anyway.
* Broccoli she’ll eat. Tacos? Not so much.
posted by Matt at
11:10 PM
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