To pea or not to pea….?

‘Sit down quietly. Please eat your dinner. No…..don’t throw your food on the floor……'

The simple task of feeding two hungry mouths is not an easy feat. It is a skill which takes many months, possibly years to master. There is an art to hiding both the texture and colour of – God forbid I say it – a ‘vegetable’. This month in our house, carrot and peas are the offending items – why? because they’re orange and pink of course! And, for a two-year old, no further explanation is needed. Once the decision is made that the colour is offensive then instant banishment and entry onto the every growing list of items never to be seen or welcomed across the threshold of their eager baby lips again. It’s an odd development in the growth of a child, this sudden revulsion against certain types of food.

Since I introduced my beautiful angels to the concept of solid food, many sleepless months ago, they have enthusiastically eaten the most random of items – plastic straws, toilet paper, a freshly cut daffodil, even mung beans and lentils were regulars on the menu for some time. And as a mother, I have been so proud of this natural mothering ability to ensure that Annabel Carmel recipes are lovingly prepared and devoured at meal times.

PB (prebabies), I dreamed, whilst planning the next twenty years of their life,that my angelic duo would manifest into beacons of health. I would imagine us all strolling hand in hand through the park, with a skip in our step, the sounds of birds singing in the trees and the sun radiating through our skin and I would say '..Are you hungry? Would you like a snack?' and they would say 'yes please Mummy..' And, out of my pocket I would produce a two stick KitKat. They would look at me with confusion and possible horror and say ‘..Oh mum, no thanks. I don’t like chocolate, can’t I have an apple or a banana.’ I would smile of course, maybe tut a ‘silly me’ and then hand them two ripe apples.

In the last twelve months, I have attended numerous variations on mother and toddle groups and over an extra hot, low fat, no whip mocha in a take away cup, I have spoken with pride of how my two beautiful healthy vastly intelligent children so passionately eat a glorious array of foods, without question whilst other mothers recount tale upon tale of how they’re at their wits end because their child will only consider munching on a chicken Mcnuggget or a cheese slice.

However, like most things involving children, the unimaginable and ultimately inevitable will happen.

As we all sit down for our regular evening meal, T.V off, hands washed, bibs on, plastic IKEA bowls and plates in place, I lovingly present home made squash and sweet potato soup served with rice crackers and hummus, followed by poached salmon with fresh steamed asparagus and mashed potato (the prepacked good stuff from the big ‘S’) and what do you know…

From across the table, the echo’s of tiny little high pitched voices singing in unison slowly penetrate around the room getting louder and louder and louder until the piercing scream hits my ear drums….’I DON'T LIKE IT ITS PINKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!’

In six small one syllable words the balance of power has shifted. I hear myself calmly say ‘Try it, please……’ but they know….…children have special SUPERNATURAL powers of detection… they instinctively know your weak points, when your resolve is at its lowest and they strike hard… ‘No, I don’t like it.’

So, the pleading starts again, ‘Please try it… just a little bit. Just for mummy…. If you eat two mouth fulfils you can have a gold star!' …. ..Then I look. I hold my breath. The little pink tongues appear from their angelic filth ridden faces and I wait with bated anticipation praying to God Almighty that they eat their soup. The edge of the small tea spoon is shaking as my hand delivers the offending item towards their lips and as it approaches the tips of their tongue appear. I am projecting positive thoughts - God please hear me. Their tongues touch the edge of the spoons and, suddenly a deafening echoing howl blasts through my head

‘NOoooooooooo, I don’t like it!’

In five words, an hour of researching menus, two hours of my most hated pastime-shopping, thirty minutes of preparing dinner, fifteen minutes of negotiation has proven once and for all…. Yep, it was worth it. They absolutely hated it with as passion and preferred the 69p tined chicken soup with no bits.

Nevermind … will try again tomorrow.