On Mondays we sometimes go to play group in the local church. Although we have only been going a few weeks, I know it is a well-established group because they are very organised and have a few systems in place to deal with its popularity.
One of these systems is that the tea and biscuits, which is something to be expected at these groups, are served through a hatch in the wall at an allocated time unlike other groups where you can go up whenever you please. Mums and children line up when the shutters open to choose a biscuit and select a drink from the trays of pre-filled Tommee Tippee cups, they then move across to the next window to request a hot drink, which is poured into one of the clean mugs laid out on trays.
The biscuits are usually opened and scattered on a plate and I usually take one for me, and one for each of the boys. If I were to rate this group on the biscuits alone, it wouldn’t be the best, but we’ve never been left hungry. We usually have a choice of a decent enough biscuit you may have at home with your cup of tea - dunkable, usually and something the kids will like. Nothing too exciting.
On Monday when I got to the front of the queue, I was a little disappointed with the selection on offer. There were a handful of divisive Ginger Nut biscuits and only two crowd-pleasing Custard Creams - perfect, I thought, I only need two. Except when I asked my son which he wanted he was attracted to the Ginger Nuts.
“Oh, I don’t know if you’ll like those.”
“I will.”
“Really? Well, I’m not sure you will they are Ginger nuts –
“Like ginger bread?” he said, excited.
“erm, kind of, but Zingier.”
Zingier is the word I use to describe things he may not like. I have used it before to put him off trying a sachet of english mustard in the café or eating a whole lemon like an apple. I screw my face up just to make sure that he knows Zingier is a definite negative in this context.
He chooses it anyway and my battle is lost. I take a Custard Cream for my youngest and grudgingly, a Ginger Nut for myself.
As I move along to the next hatch and ask for my tea, the lady behind me in the queue also a mother of two, but with one young enough to be clinging to her in the baby carrier, said something to her eldest that sounded familiar.
“Oh no, sweetheart you won’t like those, have one of these.”
I chuckled to myself, glad for her that she wouldn’t have to deal with the same tantrum that was coming my way.
We sat down at the end of the hall and I watched anxiously as my son nibbled his Ginger Nut biscuit. I imagined that the contents of his mouth would land in my face as he would spit it out angrily - how could you let me take this biscuit Mummy? My one biscuit of the morning and you let me take this one? It’s disgusting!
I tried to warn you - I would say.
I watched as he chewed, his face screwed up a little, and swallowed. He took a swig from his Tommee Tippee - and that was that.
Whatever he thought of the biscuit he ate it no problem and carried on playing. The tantrum I had expected didn’t happen.
I don’t know if he liked it so much as he had accepted his fate, it was his decision after all, but he had done it. He had tried something new.
In this situation I had lost the battle, but there are many times in which I have told my son what it is he would prefer and he has agreed. In this case I would have stopped him trying something new because I was terrified he would make a scene in front of all the other mums and children and it probably wasn’t the first time.
I complain that he is a picky eater, eating the same three of four meals on rotation - and many of them include “on toast” in their title, but actually is it my fault I am not giving opportunities to try food. I have long had him down as a kid that doesn’t eat meat, for example, but every now and then I might give him a Lunchables whilst we are out - for the cheese and crackers, and I’ll notice him eating the chicken or the ham.
He is at an age now where he realises that he has agency and he seems to want to try new things.
Sometimes, I am willing to take his lead. He kept asking to get out of the bottom of the double buggy mid bus journey so I have embraced this as a chance to ditch it all together in favour of a single buggy and longer walks for him. So far, he seems on board.
As he has grown up he has often taken the lead with his milestones, as our first child he is very much teaching us how to be parents. For example, he climbed out of his cot, which prompted us to convert it to a toddler bed, he then refused to wear a nappy at night, leading to night training before I thought he was ready - he has often told us what is coming next so why not a Ginger Nut biscuit?
But I just want an easy life.
Much of my parenting has been tantrum-avoidant. Especially since having my second son, I have just wanted an easy life. I think this has led to me making whatever he wants for dinner, “on toast” and sticking to the same old food he likes, the same things he likes - until he doesn’t like them anymore and notifies me accordingly.
So it seems this is a clear lesson, then that I should learn from.
After the group we went to Sainsbury’s and got a few treats in. I had noticed the cupboards were empty of anything sweet and I need something to get us through the week. I found some Kipling Angel Slices I thought he would like but he was adamant he wanted the Battenburg, then the Bakewell Tarts - two cakes I despise.
“You won’t like them, sweetheart. They have almonds in. Mummy hates almonds.”
This time there was a tantrum, shouting and screaming in Sainsbury’s all the while I try to negotiate thinking that I can’t just chuck him in the buggy like I used to and now have to drag a grumpy, non-cooperative toddler around a supermarket. Eventually, we settled on something chocolatey, which he had forgotten he had agreed to by the time we got home and was demanding the Bakewell Slices all over again.
I wish I had just bought them.
It was a selfish reason that I refused to buy them. I didn’t want to be burdened with boxes of cakes I didn’t like if he went off them, but it hadn’t been long since the Ginger Nut incident, so I obviously hadn’t learned anything.
Maybe my reasons for limiting him are selfish sometimes.
I don’t want to throw food away or spend loads of money on something I’m not sure he will enjoy - food, day trip, whatever really. There has to be an element of certainty, which then means you get stuck doing and eating the same old things.
He is adamant he wants to learn to play cricket. Cricket? I assume it’s from Bluey as we don’t know anyone who plays or how to play and we don’t watch it at all… How do you know you will like it? But I guess we’ll end up paying for a club if there is one to find out…
I’m selfish not to want to deal with a tantrum or because I can’t be bothered for him to not like whatever it is he wants to try - I often say, I just don’t have the energy right now, and often, I don’t.
But I guess there is always the what if.
What if he likes it?
What if nothing terrible happens?
What if, this time, Mummy doesn’t know best.
So as usual, my firstborn is teaching me about parenting and how to be a better parent, maybe. Could this be our way out of picky eating? I doubt it, but he might be willing to give it a try and maybe I should too.
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They really wear us down, don't they!😂 Oh gosh, I really remember those days. Toddlers are ridiculously fickle, so allow yourself that. I think the best parenting advice I ever received (mine are 10, 14 and 16 now) was that, as the parent, I can "change my mind" on my parenting approaches. As in, if something isn't working for the household/a child/during a certain phase, change it to what works. I found it so liberating! I think toast for dinner is a grand achievement. We worry so much they're not getting what they need, but most of the time they do and grow beautifully. Be gentle with yourself. It's really hard work.
i’m definitely tantrum avoidant and also find myself opting for the easier option. I find the whole eating thing so hard to navigate and i’m so often triggered by my son that i have to leave the room and let my husband take over, who manages to be calmer around it all. My desperation to get more nutrition into the child other than jam on pancakes is often futile. my husband always says ‘he’s not gonna starve’ but makes me want to lose my shit, because i’m aiming for higher than ‘not malnutrition’.
i am surprised by what he does eat sometimes. As a baby he would shove fistfuls of sauerkraut in his mouth. (what!?!) And the other day he tasted the marmite pasta i made (yes you read that right - it works and is my dirty secret quick meal) and he was mad for it. Probably my ginger biscuit moment.
What i find tough is how they love one thing one day then decide they never want it again - the mental load of meal prep for a toddler is exhausting.
I have had to stop following those instagram accounts showing toddlers happily working their way through amazing meals prepped by nutritionist mums. A perfectly balanced plate including the ‘iron’ and protein and carb balanced. Fast track to feeling like a failure!