Cooking For Young Children is a Pain in the Ass

I have three children. And believe it or not– they don’t all like the same things to eat. What?! I know. Crazy.

I have a rule at my dinner table: you eat what I make. No ifs, ands or buts. . Kids need rules and boundaries, right? So I’m not a complete mommy psychopath. There is some logic behind my thinking. But occasionally I get stuck on a statement and I continue down that road, all parties involved kicking and screaming, because I’m stubborn and don’t want to give in. And I forget why I made a rule at all. I am just there to enforce it.

Over the course of the last month, I encountered what I thought was yet another eating phase in which my three-year-old made a decision regarding food–with no notice to the chef (ME). She could have at least written me a memo regarding which foods are not to her liking, thank me in advance for preparing something different, or perhaps offer to do the dishes. But no.

“I don’t like these gross beans,” she stated to me one night at dinner.

“But you love beans! “ I assured her. “You love burritos and tacos and chili! All of those have beans!”

“No. I do not like beans, “ was her reply.

We continued on in this fashion for a couple of weeks, wherein a meal would inevitably involve a legume and my darling child would pitch a fit and refuse to eat.  My defense was simple– I refused to waste food, and I was not going to be the mom that made a different meal for each one of my children. I felt (and still feel) like they should appreciate the fact that they have a home-cooked meal at all, and they should learn to like different kinds of cooking, spices, and tastes.

This logic worked for me…until it didn’t. Until one night, as I watched my husband shovel beans into an angry little mouth at my directive, and my precious daughter’s face was contorted into an expression of absolute torture, that it dawned on me– the kid has dislikes. She has her own unique set of taste buds that systematically are referring back to her brain saying, “Yay!” and “Nay!”

And I felt like a real asshole.

Imagine that as an adult you go to someone’s house for dinner and they make mushrooms– a food you hate. This food is not a favorite of yours; in fact you detest it. You may be able to handle eating it once but if this person is constantly feeding you, at some point you’re going to break down and say, “You know what, thanks for making food. I really appreciate it, but I actually am not the biggest fan of mushrooms.”

(Or in three-year-old speak, “Yuck. This is gross. I DON’T LIKE MUSHROOMS!” Spits on floor.)

And then instead of listening to you, instead of taking into consideration your dislikes, your host makes you mushrooms every time you go over to their house. Not only are they placed on your plate, but you are told to eat them…or else. If that doesn’t work, the chef may insist that you be force-fed said mushrooms, while the whole table watches you saying things like, “Come on, just eat one more bite. One more.”

Well my daughter doesn’t like mushrooms. Or apparently beans, either.

Does this mean every time one of my kids doesn’t want to eat their vegetables I shrug it off and give them pizza?

NO.

It just means that I have to be more realistic in my expectations. I have to break out of the tunnel vision and see that my children are little people who come with their own personality, the occasional sense of entitlement, and clear preferences. And if that means that I have to leave the beans out my three-year-old’s burrito and give her a tortilla with cheese, then I’m just gonna say screw it and call it for what it is… a quesadilla.