Independence found in a spoon
-
- April
- 9
It happened. My darling, little butterball, who until a few days ago ate whatever was put in front of her, has suddenly decided to shake her head and purse her lips in protestation. It started the other day when Zyla, who recently turned one, refused a spoonful of homemade mashed sweet potatoes—the orange spuds she had no problem finishing off from the baby jar—and then this morning with her oatmeal mixed with bananas.
She wouldn’t even try the sweet potatoes, difficult for me since I’m of the mind that you should try something at least once before rejecting it. I find her newfound resolve amusing, but know it won’t be long before frustration sets in. I was inventive though last night when she wanted the penne but not the zucchini and sweet peppers mixed in with it. I wound up hiding the veggies, stuffing them inside the pasta. She fell for it. Score one for sneaky mom, I thought.
As I reflected on that small victory, I realized that there will be countless times I will be called upon to be creative in my daughter’s life. It’s bittersweet for me to witness her budding independence. But I guess that’s motherhood and as she grows, I grow too.
This entry was posted
on Wednesday, April 9th, 2008 at 3:11 pm by Marcela Rojas.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
Print
| 
Email
And this, too, shall pass.
We used to think how lucky we were that our Rafael ate pretty much anything we’d eat. I mean, he ate asparagus! Then, in an instant, he became a refusenik and I think for about six months he pretty much ate oatmeal, bread with butter, carrots, and steak. He wouldn’t even eat eggs or chicken!
We just commented last night, however, that he seems to be getting less picky again.
He can only have one type of food on his plate at a time, and he likes it when it’s “arranged.” (For example, pieces of handmade sausage from the Uruguayan butcher downtown in a circle around the edge of the plate, with a small pile in the middle. Very avant garde.)