Baby steps

In case you are under the illusion that I’ve got it all figured out, let me set you straight. I DON’T. I’m still trying to quit sugar, still trying to get my husband on board with buying organic ketchup, and I’m still navigating the dinner time challenge of picky eaters.

I can’t tell you how many times I wish my nephews were sitting at my kitchen table instead of my kids. Give my nephews the choice between sushi roe and chicken fingers, and they’d be like “what’s a chicken finger?”

Ok, I’m exaggeratng a tiny bit, but somehow my sons, who as babies ate everything (my son’s staple dinner as a toddler was tofu and broccoli), both turned into the average american picky eater at age three. The baby is still a question mark.

As I mentioned, I’ve been playing with veganism this week. I actually feel really great. The most noticeable difference is a reduction in gas (yes I mean flatulence) and a feeling of lightness. This is after only five days of no animal protein.

So, of course, I want to get the family on board. Even though I had been eating meat again for about 4 years, I’ve never gotten used to cooking it. Cutting into chicken breasts really skeeves me out. I’d love to, at the very least, reduce our meat intake to meat-less dinners in the house. (I should mention that we’re a nut-free house so our options are a lot more limited than yours.)

I made an organic tofu scramble the other night for dinner. It was beautiful. I followed a vegan blog recipe that swore your kids would hardly tell the difference between scrambled eggs and these. I even used turmeric for a yellow egg look.

Oldest son: “These taste like nothing!”
Me: “Well, that’s good, right? You always complain that you don’t like the taste of the sauces I make.”
Middle son: <GAG> followed by <BIGGER GAG WITH ACCOMPANYING PRE-VOMIT BURP.>
Me: “Chill out! Chill out! It’s just vegan eggs!”
Baby: “Mmmmm….”
Middle son: <LOUD CRIES>
Oldest son: “These are not eggs! What are you hiding in these? These are not eggs.”
Me: “But I put ketchup on. You like everything when there’s ketchup.”
Middle son: <LOUD CRIES> followed by “I not hungry.”
Me: “Ok. Fine. Excuse yourself then.”
Baby: “Ahh Dun.”
Oldest son: “More ketchup and I’ll eat ‘em.”

I call that progress.

 TIPS: This article on picky eaters. Don’t take it personally. Try, try again.