GrabbieUpdate
The boys are in that phase when they’ll eat anything with the edibility of a dirt clod or higher. That’s great when I have something blah in the fridge* that I can stuff into the boys because there’s no way anyone capable of rational thought would choose to eat it. That’s not so great when I sit down to a steaming hot plate of broccoli and have to fend off three sets of hands to traverse the fork into my mouth. Sure I’m proud to have raised three children who love broccoli to the extent that they’re willing to knock their siblings to the ground for a taste, but I still scold them when they knock my plate on the floor while grabbing florets.
Abbie has it rougher than I do, though. When I don’t want to share my veggies, I can stand up beyond prying fingers, or I can hide in another room in the case of ice cream. When the boys scamper up to her booster seat at mealtime, Abbie is helpless against their approaches, except for the kicking. She can knock them onto the floor with a boot or two, though they’re that her perimeter defense is weak around the edges and are learning to take different approach angles.
Mealtime is a complicated process of feeding children in order of whininess. The boys are generally furious when mealtime approaches, so they get fed first. I encourage Abbie to find something else to do while they eat, and she’s learned to take advantage of the fact that I’m stuck in front of boys no matter how much it sounds like she’s breaking something in the living room. Sometimes she wanders into the kitchen to investigate their meal, if for no other reason than to be glad their eating the jambalaya so she doesn’t have to. Last night, though, we had spaghetti, which is one of the two main dishes** she enjoys eating. When she realized she couldn’t eat yet, she ran to her room screaming and stayed there screaming until presented with a bowl of spaghetti, completely fouling the household’s whininess hierarchy.
Generally mealtime goes smoother as Abbie eats her main dish while the boys finish their milk. When the boys’ cups run dry, I move them into the living room and give them a dish full of Tasteeos so Abbie may eat in peace. I keep them away from Abbie partially in fairness to her because no one deserves a child tugging on their plate as they eat even though she does it to me. Mostly I keep them separated for the boys’ safety since she can send them headfirst into the linoleum with a flick of her leg. Plus the boys can choke, and have done so, after snitching Abbie’s food. Goldfish seem to be particularly gag-inducing, thus ruining my theory that all children are born with the innate desire and ability to eat Goldfish. I know when their Tasteeo bowl is empty because someone will crawl into the kitchen searching for more food.
I finally get to eat when Abbie’s demands slow to one every couple minutes. I can be pretty whiny while waiting for food, but I’m too busy feeding children to moan. Abbie is usually running off to find new things to destroy while I eat, but she comes running back for dessert.
Last night I gave her gelatin. It was delicious, with fruit mixed in and a dollop of whipped topping gracing the summit. Naturally one of the boys, probably Tory, dumped her bowl on the floor before she could eat much of it. I need to remember to check their Tasteeo bowl.
* Like that jambalaya I made with too much okra and not enough, well, I don’t know if there’s anything that can save a dish containing too much okra.
** Mac and cheese is the other.
Abbie has it rougher than I do, though. When I don’t want to share my veggies, I can stand up beyond prying fingers, or I can hide in another room in the case of ice cream. When the boys scamper up to her booster seat at mealtime, Abbie is helpless against their approaches, except for the kicking. She can knock them onto the floor with a boot or two, though they’re that her perimeter defense is weak around the edges and are learning to take different approach angles.
Mealtime is a complicated process of feeding children in order of whininess. The boys are generally furious when mealtime approaches, so they get fed first. I encourage Abbie to find something else to do while they eat, and she’s learned to take advantage of the fact that I’m stuck in front of boys no matter how much it sounds like she’s breaking something in the living room. Sometimes she wanders into the kitchen to investigate their meal, if for no other reason than to be glad their eating the jambalaya so she doesn’t have to. Last night, though, we had spaghetti, which is one of the two main dishes** she enjoys eating. When she realized she couldn’t eat yet, she ran to her room screaming and stayed there screaming until presented with a bowl of spaghetti, completely fouling the household’s whininess hierarchy.
Generally mealtime goes smoother as Abbie eats her main dish while the boys finish their milk. When the boys’ cups run dry, I move them into the living room and give them a dish full of Tasteeos so Abbie may eat in peace. I keep them away from Abbie partially in fairness to her because no one deserves a child tugging on their plate as they eat even though she does it to me. Mostly I keep them separated for the boys’ safety since she can send them headfirst into the linoleum with a flick of her leg. Plus the boys can choke, and have done so, after snitching Abbie’s food. Goldfish seem to be particularly gag-inducing, thus ruining my theory that all children are born with the innate desire and ability to eat Goldfish. I know when their Tasteeo bowl is empty because someone will crawl into the kitchen searching for more food.
I finally get to eat when Abbie’s demands slow to one every couple minutes. I can be pretty whiny while waiting for food, but I’m too busy feeding children to moan. Abbie is usually running off to find new things to destroy while I eat, but she comes running back for dessert.
Last night I gave her gelatin. It was delicious, with fruit mixed in and a dollop of whipped topping gracing the summit. Naturally one of the boys, probably Tory, dumped her bowl on the floor before she could eat much of it. I need to remember to check their Tasteeo bowl.
* Like that jambalaya I made with too much okra and not enough, well, I don’t know if there’s anything that can save a dish containing too much okra.
** Mac and cheese is the other.
posted by Matt at
11:30 PM
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