Monday, November 30, 2009

Not Me!

I may or may not write about our Thanksgiving. My children were amazingly well behaved (and I am thankful for that!!) and ate, so there's not a whole lot to say there . . .

On to the confessions! See what MckMama is up to here: http://www.mycharmingkids.net/
I was not the one who bought a plastic bead organizer thing (has multiple little dividers in it) for my sons' legos. And I certainly didn't sort the legos into this bin mere minutes after coming home from the store. I would never engage in such a pointless, OCD activity.
And I didn't use the shop vac on my husband's circular saw, making it the cleanest circular saw in America. I mean, what a waste of time! Who does that kind of thing?
And it wasn't I who broke the 2-week streak of no puking in this house by getting a massive migraine and puking.
I also don't keep track of how long it's been since anyone puked in this house.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Mini-Me

She's my daughter. Everyone from total strangers to my mother say she looks exactly like me (their precise words, all of them, except my mother, who wouldn't know Austin Powers if she tripped over him, are "she's a mini-you").



She eats the icing off her cake first. I mean, only. Forget the cake.


Anyway, I gave her this chocolate chip granola bar from her Halloween stash. She was fairly excited (I mean, it's not like I gave her Skittles or anything. She wasn't that excited). Later, I came over the clean off the table and found this:


Well, not that exactly. I did set up the wrapper to give you an idea of what it was I actually gave her. She picked out all of the chocolate chips, ate them, and left the rest. I don't think I would have done that exactly, but have been known to eat my favorite parts of things and leave the rest.

Yep, a Mini-me.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Practice

Tonight I roasted a chicken (yum!). Sam protested from the time the bird went in the oven that he didn't want chicken. "You don't have a choice," we told him. "Look around. What's this room?"

"The kitchen."

"And where is this kitchen?"

"In our house."

This is our new thing. The kitchen is in our house which means he doesn't get a choice.

We started out with a whine rating of about 9 but by the time the food was on the table he was finished and he ate (and not with the constant "eat, eat" chorus we usually give). I told them this was a practice for Thursday and Nana's - maybe that's why he was in a good mood. He got to point out things Kate was doing that wouldn't be appropriate on Thanksgiving at Nana's.

Kate pounded down the chicken and potatoes.

I guess last night when I was out with my migraine they both ate the leftover broccoli beef stir-fry that Craig heated up for himself - and Sam had absolutely refused to eat it the night before. Go figure.

Not Me Monday

Every once in awhile I check out McMama's blog so thought I'd join in for a Not Me Monday. You can read what she didn't do here. Oh wait, I can't figure out at all how to do that. Try this: http://www.mycharmingkids.net/

I was not the one who gave her 3-yr-old a bag of cry cereal to eat while she didn't sit with me in bed and watch TV while I did not doze . . . or later, when I did not find crumbs in the bed, get the lint roller to clean them up. And then, I didn't proceed to use the lint roller on other surfaces in the room to dust.

I didn't stay up to midnight to watch Alton Brown make gravy after having a migraine all day and sleeping from 5PM- 9PM while my husband (hereafter referred to at Captain Terrific) fed the children dinner and put them to bed.

I was not the one who protested when my daughter wanted to clean up the My Little Ponies because I hadn't finished combing all of the ponies' hair. For that matter, I wasn't the one who collected clips and elastics for the sole purpose of styling said ponies' hair.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Lunch is the new Witching Hour

Sam attends afternoon kindergarten and has to be there at 12:15. This means I have to feed him lunch at 11:15. Which makes 11 AM the new witching hour at our house (don't worry, we still have the traditional late afternoon/dinner prep witching hour).

This week, waffles moved to the undesireable list. For me, lunch at this time feels like breakfast (or brunch) so I don't mind giving him waffles. Here is a list (by no means comprehensive but it seems once an item is on the list, it stays there) of things he will not eat for lunch:

chicken nuggets
ham & cheese sandwich
peanut butter & jelly sandwich
mac & cheese
grilled cheese
ravioli
hot dogs

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

A tablespoon is being generous

Taco night. Craig's favorite night. Kate likes them because they have "salad" (lettuce) on them but Sam can't figure out what it is about them he doesn't like. The spiciness? The cheese? The fact that it's food?

So rather than have (another) massive showdown, we tell Sam Skippyjon Jones stopped by and left poquito tacitos for him to eat (this would be unseasoned meat scooped into those little bowl-shaped tortilla chips with cheese on top). He thinks this is funny. And for the most part eats them, with only moderate encouragement from us. And a reduction in consumption expectations from 5 to 3.

Kate sort of eats hers, eats some handfuls of lettuce, and tries to leave. I end up (I know, I know, she's three. Why am I doing this?) feeding her.

The big news of the night being, with no drama and little fuss, both of them consumed meat. Protein. I said to Craig, "they both had about three tablespoons of meat." To which he replied "a tablespoon is being generous." And he's usually the optimistic one.

Whine rating: 2

Monday, November 16, 2009

Showdown

Big showdown tonight over steak tips. I made the mistake of telling him he could choose plain noodles or the "butter and herb" noodles and then I expanded that to chicken nuggets or the steak. He was immobilized by the choice.

He is not sitting at the table with a plate of maybe 1 tbsp of meat on it that he is refusing to eat. I am blogging this blow by blow because . . . well, I don't really have anywhere to go since I want to stay close and encourage him along.

Kate ate the steak (which by the way is from the butcher, premarinated, and is really good) by the fistful and even at one point directly off the plate. We try to pick our battles. When I said, "Kate, use your fork," and handed it to her, she told me it didn't work.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Another day, another sickie

So, Sam threw up before supper was even out of the oven last night, thus eliminating the need to whine about dinner. Kate ate some without much comment.

Today, Sam was fine. We're pretty sure he had a migraine last night and that's why he yakked.

Kate was fine when she woke up but wilted quickly. She had a slight fever and slept for awhile. Then she woke up, changed her pants (for no real reason, she just does this), came downstairs, and proceeded to throw up all over herself and some on the sofa. She wanted a new shirt but she needed to go in the tub. Then she perked up, painted, played N64 with Sam, and ate with no problems.

Go figure.

We were supposed to have missionaries over for supper but I canceled when Kate's fever started. Sam was disappointed they weren't coming, something I found very cute. Now there's lots and lots of ziti and spaghetti sauce, since we were supposed to be 10 for dinner tonight.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Ham

Ham is an acceptable meat. Chicken, not. Right now there's a Ham Pot Pie with Potato Gratin Crust in the oven. I fully expect Sam to eat it. Or not.

That's the beauty of my children: completely unpredictable.

The last few nights have actually been better. We tell them they have to eat what's in front of them (enormously novel concept in this house; cross-reference Sam's cereal phase) and that's it. They seem to be slowly absorbing this. Last night, Sam ate steak (collective gasp from those who know him. He's never eaten steak). It took some coaxing due to his protestations that it was 'spicy' but he ate it. We also encourage him to take drinks in between bites, as he often holds the offensive food in his mouth while complaining about it.

He did bounce into the kitchen earlier and snatch a snickerdoodle. Not complaints there.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Not much success tonight

Sam was sick yesterday. He perked up around 4 but I didn't want to make him eat what we were eating, which was good because the 'pork chops and country gravy' did not turn out well. Come to think of it, it didn't turn out right last time, either. I know it was good the first few times I made it, so I'm not sure what's going on.

Well, it was bland, tasteless, and dry, so Craig called for a pizza (technically he ordered it online and picked it up). Kate licked up some of the thick "gravy" - the only one with no complaints. Perfect "teachable moment" to discuss with Sam how neither one of us liked what I made and point out how we dealt with it (not fussing, screaming, or crying). We also pointed out that we don't ask him to eat gross things. Craig and I are pretty picky eaters ourselves but our children take it to new levels with chicken and grilled cheese being declared inedible.

Tonight I pulled some lasagna roll-ups from the freezer (difficult to do while again patting myself on the back not only for having stored them there but also for remembering we could have them) and made ravioli for the small ones. This resulted in great distress and mayhem. Kate spent most of supper on the floor crying, until she realized I gave her both juice and water to drink and she could combine them herself. Then she ate her applesauce.

Sam's ravioli were too "mushy" and "wet." He was given the choice to either eat or go to his room. He left the table. Later, when he was hungry, he wailed that the applesauce would be too soft. He didn't believe us when we told him the texture of applesauce was not up for discussion, as it didn't change.

Whine rating: 7

Monday, November 2, 2009

Easy night

One of my favorite tricks is to, instead of putting a casserole into a 9x13 dish (can I just pause to say WHY did my husband leave the room, with the TV on football, with the remote out of reach? He's a great, phenomenal man, but this is a pet peeve of mine. Remote within reach, please.), to split it into 2 8x8 (or whatever I have on hand, since somehow my glass 8x8 has disappeared) and freeze one. Then, a few weeks down the road, I pull it out, heat it up, and pat myself on the back for being so clever.

Oh, but the only edible part of the 'creamy ham casserole' was the ham. Or the noodles. Depending on who you talk to.