Column on getting kids to eat - not what you might expect

S

Sexy Male Stripper L

New member
I find it odd that I almost never find this guy's column at any
website that actually attracts/lists comments with every column - and
he's written a dozen books or so and has been on plenty of news shows,
so it can't be for lack of fans.

I have to say that had I not had his philosophies well in mind when I
was babysitting for a 3-year-old for two weeks, I could easily have
been brainwashed by the "common wisdom" that says you have to ask
kids' permission before you make them do anything - and if they cry
about, say, having to walk for more than five minutes because they
hate walking and prefer to take taxis everywhere, you HAVE to at least
apologize and carry them or else you'll traumatize them for life!
Thank goodness I knew differently beforehand (the mother wasn't so
informed, really).

Lenona.


http://www.kansascity.com/2011/02/08/2640201/living-with-children.html

I must, in the interest of full disclosure, begin this column with a
confession: I am a voyeur; more specifically, a parenting voyeur. In
the words of Chauncey Gardner, I like to watch; more specifically, I
like to watch people interact with their kids. I do my voyeur thing in
restaurants, stores, shopping centers, parking lots, and so on. I try
to do it without staring, of course. The trick is to be casual about
it, to go unnoticed.

So, I am walking up and down the aisles of my local grocery store the
other day (I also like to shop), on a mission for my wife and myself,
and I turn from one aisle into the next and begin walking up on a Mom
and Dad who are hovering over a shopping cart, talking to some third
person whom I cannot see at first. Using my amazing powers of
deductive reasoning, I correctly (it turns out) figure they are
talking to a child.

"What do you think about this, buddy? Eh? Look good? Eh?" Dad is
saying.

He's holding up a bag of what looks like frozen chunks of breaded
chicken.

After several seconds of silence, Mom chimes in with "If we buy that
for you, will you eat it?"

"Yeah, buddy," Dad says. "We won't buy it unless you promise to eat
it. How about it. Huh?"

During this exchange, as I stroll ever closer to this little family
drama,

I have been pretending to peruse the shelves for my favorite brand of
baking soda. As I pass their cart, I am able to see the child in
question. He is sitting in the basket. I suppose he refuses to sit in
the child seat. He's eating something that looks, at a glance, like
candy. He looks to be 21/2.

One parenting picture is worth a thousand words. These two people
don't have a clue, but they are digging an ever-deepening hole for
themselves. At this stage of the game, they can, with minimal effort,
climb out of it, but the longer they allow this "hey buddy" and "will
you eat this?" silliness go on, the more difficult climbing out is
going to be. This child is not yet 3, and he is ringmaster of the
family circus.

At some point, these parents are going to complain (if they have not
already) to others about how "strong-willed" he is, how he won't
accept "no" for an answer, and the like. But he is not the problem.
His behavior is nothing more than an expression of the problem. Trying
to correct him is not and will not be the answer. To correct this
problem, the horse will have to be put out in front of the cart.

The problem will not only be his ever-worsening behavior. The best
research has clearly shown that the happiest children are also the
most obedient.

So the paradox will be that although this child will be getting his
own way, he will not really be a happy camper. Eventually, he may even
be miserable.

The further problem is that this tragic-comedy is close to being the
norm in America. At dinner tables all over the country, children are
being served special meals that keep them happy today and increase
their chances of being malcontents later on.

A week after my grocery store voyeurism, I read a mother's online
story of her 3-year-old daughter who is "food phobic." The mother
spends an inordinate amount of time and energy fixing this foods that
do not kick her "phobia" into action. So now we even have the
beginnings of a new diagnosis and a new mental health industry. Maybe
even a new food industry: Every item - steak, chicken, broccoli,
mashed potatoes, you name it - is processed and packaged to look and
even taste like candy.

That's not a joke; it's a prediction. And it's not funny anyway.
 
Omelet wrote:

Despite what some of this thread's posters feel is my actual opinion, I
entirely concur with this sentiment. To often, kids dislike methods of
preparation rather than ingredients. I'm glad my family didn't give up on
certain foods just because I disliked them prepared in certain ways. When I've
advocated the inculcation of appreciation for different foods in children, I
never condoned cruelty as a preferred methodology. On the contrary, I think
parents use cruelty to mask their ineptitude in preparing foods in different
ways. If I were force fed cauliflower in cheese sauce, I'd probably gag on the
first attempted bite. But, roast it or dip it in egg before frying and I'm on
board. I likewise prefer roasted carrots to mushy steamed ones.

It's also important for parents and children to dialogue honestly regarding
food preferences, textures, odors, visual aesthetics, etc. It's not enough to
shut down valuable discussions with kids expressing abhorrence and parents
threatening punishment if they don't eat what's put before them. I and my
family learned a lot about food by talking about what different relatives
liked/disliked. For instance, I eventually learned that my dislike for creamy
textures only applied to dairy, which opened up a world of pureed foods, from
humus and refried beans to squash and fruit. Had my parents unquestioningly
taken my dislike as gospel, I and they wouldn't have learned what we did.

All too often, kids end up associating specific preparations with certain
ingredients because that's how they've been served at home. "Foodies" like us
know that there are probably thousands of ways to prepare many foods, each with
different seasonings and cooking methods, each producing radically different
textures and aromas. I vote for exposing kids to a variety of preparations of
supposedly disliked foodstuffs before banishing them.

Orlando
 
Omelet wrote:

That's very extreme. I doubt many beat their kids for not eating
everything they're served, least I'd hope not. My mother would very
occasionally prepare something that my father prefered but us kids
wouldn't even try... now that I look back there was nothing wrong with
potted meat (really just stew). If we didn't want to eat any then we
didn't have to but there was nothing else, we could just sit there
quietly... if we made any commotion we were sent to our room... didn't
take long to learn how to stfu. We didn't get beaten, we simply
missed the main part of the meal, which might have been stewed
chicken, or more likely braised meaty soup bones, but there was always
plenty of bread and butter and milk, we didn't starve, far from it,
we'd even get dessert if there was any... but like I said, that was
very rare. I really don't remember my mother preparing foods we
didn't like except those very few times she'd make something my father
requested because it was something his mother made. And now as an
adult I like all those "disgusting" foods my father liked... he would
never eat rare beef so we never ate steak and my father didn't have
the greatest teeth so he couldn't chew well done beef. We ate a lot
of ground beef and noodle dishes, meat loaf with egg noodles and gravy
was my father's favorite, now it's mine too. We may have missed a few
meals but never got beaten for not eating something... my father would
just say "More for me". When anyone asked what my father liked to eat
my mother always answered "Everything", not anything... there's a
difference. My father drove for a living, my mother didn't feed him,
she filled his tank! LOL But eventually I learned to like and even
crave all those "disgusting" foods my father liked (my mother liked
them too). Nowadays I love things like flanken, short ribs, and with
plenty of onions and turnips, borscht to die for, cabbage soup what
would give an orgasm. I make all my father's soups, and before he
passed all he had to find out is that I was preparing one of my huge
pots filled with meaty soup bones braised with tons of onions,turnips,
carrots, spuds, and a mess o' fresh dill and he'd drive over two
hundred miles in the middle of the night to suprise me with a visit,
he'd ring my bell before sun up, not so much to see me, but for my
cooking... and he'd not leave until he ate it all even if it took him
three days. And believe me, he could eat like you wouldn't believe.
His very favorite was cole slaw... one day he spotted the cabbages in
my garden and begged me to make cole slaw, so I prepared four huge
heads worth... do you know he got up in the middle of the night to
check the fridge that no one stole his cole slaw, I'd find him at the
kitchen table at 3 AM stuffing it in at olympic speed. I'd tell him
dad, I'll pack it up so you can take it home, he'd say I don't want to
put you to any trouble so I'll just eat it while I'm here. And when
he left he had eaten it all. It always amazed him that I could cook
Latvian just like his mother. He loved my mother's mother's cooking
too... I can cook all those Slavic dishes as well. The one dish dad
admitted I prepared better than anyone is kasha varniskas... everytime
I cook a batch I wish he were still around to see who could shovel in
more... Im sure he'd win.
Beating a kid for not eating something I think is a good indication of
criminal behaviour, nowadays those parents go to prison, as they
should.
 
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