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