Circle Lunches

I was only half way surprised when food became the center of our power struggles for a little bit. I knew we were in for the long haul when he ate minimal calories in an entire day--then repeated it for several days in a row. I kept waiting for his hunger from the previous day to catch up, but it just felt like he was digging his heels in. He repeatedly asked for mac and cheese for every meal. So that was a guaranteed melt-down every few hours. I'm not above the neon orange noodles from a blue box, but I couldn't stoop to serving it up day after day after day. When he started insisting it be made fresh each time--leftovers were not good enough for the growing boy--I drew the line.

And I thought long and hard about why he likes neon orange noodles for lunch. And dinner. And he'll wish upon a star to have them at breakfast. Certainly not because they taste cheesy--because that wears off as soon as the bowl full cools down. At room temperature, they taste buttery, not cheesy. And mushy. Bleh! After much deliberation, I decided that he likes them because they are fun. Wheels and spirals and smile noodles--all from a box. Fun.

So if you want fun, buddy, I've got fun.

We came home from errands, ready for lunch when the usual request started ringing out: I want mac 'n  cheese.

No mac 'n cheese today, buddy, but if you would find a really good hiding spot while I fix lunch, today we are going to have a circle lunch. 

A circle lunch? What is that?

Well you'll just have to go hide while I make it. Then you'll find out when it's ready.

So he hid.

And I put cut out sandwich circles, apples, peanuts, and cucumbers in a circle on a big cookie sheet.

He was absolutely thrilled. He ate every last bite. Then he wanted more sandwich, please. Which shocked me--because he has never eaten a sandwich without pulling it apart and licking off the good stuff then discarding the bread. 

Since that day, we have had "D" lunch, line lunch (see pics below), flower lunch, muffin tin lunch, sack lunch, "X" lunch, "3" lunch, poke lunch, oh the list goes on.

With that first circle lunch, I told him he had to eat it in order--because I could see him eating all the apples and discarding the rest. Quite frankly, he was so excited with such a huge tray in front of him with a big circle just waiting to be eaten, that he would have agreed to anything. So he did--he ate everything around the circle in order. And he's stuck with that ever since.

I'm happy because I can get a serving of veggies in, fruit, protein, etc--and now lunch is his main meal of the day where I feel like David gets the best balance.

Which frees dinner time up for more discussion and laughing, and less fretting over how many or how few calories have been consumed, so you must eat more bites before you get down from the table.

Which means less power struggle in our home.

It comes full circle--and everyone wins.

David shows off his line lunch--especially fun because it took up two whole trays!!

Sugar free

I left all the sugar-coating off of this post. Read on if you want, but be warned.
It's life as it really is at our house.

I'll admit it. We are at a stage of power struggles. I have to constantly re-evaluate and decide what battles are important to me and which ones I need to just let go. It's all about letting our little boy feel as much in control and involved in our activities as we can, but then remembering that he's only three. So some things are inherently not a good idea. 

Now add to that an extremely independent-spirited, persistent, stubborn, and curious boy, and inches quickly become miles in our world.

Like cooking. He pulls his chair up when I am in the kitchen, and tries to take a front row seat while I chop or stir or cook. Clearly there are limits--not a good idea to have fingers around knives or elbows close enough to bump hot pans. I have a small kitchen. With a dining room chair pulled up to the counter, it is tiny. I can't open the drawers, bottom cupboards or the refrigerator. I truly feel powerless to enforce any boundaries of where he can and can't be. If I am in the kitchen, he is there too. Nothing in the world is more exciting than being on top of whatever mom is doing in the kitchen. And that is where the power struggle is manifested. The point is that while we want to involve David as much as possible, it's also very hard to effectively do it.

Another example is yesterday at the grocery store. What better way to keep little hands from reaching for checkout-stand candy bars and gum than to ask for his help in putting the groceries on the conveyor belt? That was an inch. The help quickly faded, as he was trying to see what would happen if he could just get his fingers in that little crack where the conveyor belt disappeared. You know, the part that would cut them off if he succeeded? There was his mile. First I asked him sweetly to not touch. Then I explained that it could hurt his hand.  Then I firmly removed his hand; then I tried to hold it with mine and put on my "I mean business" voice. Then I moved the cart forward so he couldn't reach it, as I tried to act like nothing abnormal was happening at checkstand four. But the reality is that there is no good place for a 3-year old to be in a checkout lane when he feels slighted. And the entire store knew that he was being stopped from doing something that he deemed "helpful." They also knew that I was engaging in a power struggle with my three-year old. By the time I got me and my groceries and my shattered nerves and my tantrum-ing boy out to the car, I really had no feeling of any success. Except that David can still count to 10 with his socks on.

I'm sure there are mothers (maybe fathers--do dads read blogs?) reading this who are thinking of "why don't you just . . ." thoughts based on the skeletal facts I've just shared. And really, I'm always looking for new ideas. But please don't be surprised if I tell you that we've already tried that idea. We really want to nurture David's independence--because it's who he is, and it's here to stay no matter what we do. We really want him to hear "yes" and encouragement a lot more than he hears "no" or discouragement. We also really want him to show up at his 4th, 5th, 10th, 15th, and even 20th birthday parties with all of his fingers and toes. Without any major burns or scars would be even better.

Hockey Fans

Sam and I recently went to a hockey game with some friends of ours--they are occasionally offered tickets by season ticket holders and we were fortunate enough to be invited to be their seat mates. We learned a few things this time--I guess it's been a while since we've been to a game. Did you know that Alaska Aces fans throw fish heads onto the ice after the first goal is made? And you're not supposed to move around (like get out of your seat or come back into the arena) while the players are in action? You wait for some kind of transition point. Who knew that hockey crowds were governed by such polite manners? Oh, and when you ring a cowbell, you're not supposed to just shake it in your lap--because then it's too loud to the ears sitting directly in front of you. You have to raise it up or shake it to the side.The highlight of my evening was probably when they asked to see my ID as we passed through the "wet" section to get to our seats. Really? I look younger than 21? I'm flattered!!!

On our recent trip through the mall to reach the bowling alley, David was really taken with the boys and girls playing hockey. Some of these kids were no older than David--although they look quite a bit older with all of their gear and pads on. David thought it was great to watch them skate around and fall down. Maybe we'll have to take him skating soon. As for signing him up for hockey lessons? Mmmm. Probably not. Sam and I looked at each other and saw dollar signs with all of the hockey gear. It's got to be one of the most expensive sports with all of that equipment. And we're not die-hards enough to invest in gear quite like that.

 

As far as hockey goes, we're best as fans.