Babykins can occasionally have a bit of a stubborn streak. And because she's 3, when I try to reason with her and explain that being stubborn is holding her back from something wonderful, I usually (let's be honest, ALWAYS) fail.
A recent example...
Babykins has decided she doesn't like sauce. She doesn't like tomato sauce (Australian for ketchup) on her meat pies. She doesn't like pasta sauce on her pasta. Apparently, sauce is gross.
So the other day, I asked Babykins if she would like some ice cream. She yelled, "Yes!" and ran for her chair. She had been especially good that day, so as a special treat...
Me: Babykins, would you like chocolate sauce on your ice cream?
Babykins: No. I don't like sauce.
Me: Listen to what I'm asking you. Do you want CHOCOLATE sauce?
Babykins: I don't like sauce!
Me: But, this sauce is made of chocolate! You like chocolate.
Babykins: I DON'T LIKE SAUCE!
Good enough for me. Babykins proceeded to have ice cream with no chocolate sauce, and I spent the rest of the evening marveling over 3-year-old logic.
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Why I Worry
Last week the Babykins family was living in a hotel. As a result, we spent a lot of time eating at restaurants. Luckily for us, Babykins is a restaurant champ. She colors. She plays with her toys. She takes us for walks around the restaurant. She even (occasionally) eats some food.
Wednesday night we went to Bubba Gump's to take advantage of the outdoor seating that is conveniently located next door to an outside bar with live music. The meal started out beautifully when the waiter brought Babykins a balloon (are all of the experienced parents out there cringing, yet?). She loved it. She bopped it on my head. She shook it back a forth. I'm pretty sure I even saw her lick it. Score!
When I tried to tie the balloon on to her chair, Babykins held out her hand and said - rather sternly - "No, Mama, stop!" I explained that if she let go it would float to the ceiling and we wouldn't be able to get it back. To which she replied, "Babykins hold it!" So I reminded her to hold on tight and went back to eating my dinner.
Much to my surprise, 10 minutes later Babykins still had a firm grip on the balloon string. I was just starting to relax when Babykins leaned over the table to grab a crayon and start coloring. I watched in dismay as the balloon slipped from her grasp.
The tears came fast and heavy, but our waiter had the solution. Within moments he was back at our table with another balloon. An identical balloon. But it wasn't the same.
Babykins just continued to cry and pointed at the ceiling, insisting she wanted the "nother balloon." I was ready to turn this into a life lesson kind of moment when our waiter came out of nowhere with a bar stool and another very tall waiter in tow.
He placed the bar stool under the balloon, made the other waiter climb on, and when the combined height still wasn't enough to reach the balloon, encouraged the waiter on the chair with, "Come on man, be a hero. Jump!" When that still didn't work, he disappeared for a moment and returned with a ruler and a broom. Each had a healthy dose of tape wrapped around the end. The taller waiter was once again forced onto the slightly un-stable bar stool, this time with sticky implements in hand, and, as the whole section of the restaurant watched, he rescued Babykins' balloon.
It was an amazing act of chivalry by the waitstaff. And it is the reason I worry that Babykins will one day have all of the boys in school doing her homework for her. Her application to the convent is filled out and ready to mail.
(And yes, we left that waiter a ridiculously large tip.)
Wednesday night we went to Bubba Gump's to take advantage of the outdoor seating that is conveniently located next door to an outside bar with live music. The meal started out beautifully when the waiter brought Babykins a balloon (are all of the experienced parents out there cringing, yet?). She loved it. She bopped it on my head. She shook it back a forth. I'm pretty sure I even saw her lick it. Score!
When I tried to tie the balloon on to her chair, Babykins held out her hand and said - rather sternly - "No, Mama, stop!" I explained that if she let go it would float to the ceiling and we wouldn't be able to get it back. To which she replied, "Babykins hold it!" So I reminded her to hold on tight and went back to eating my dinner.
Much to my surprise, 10 minutes later Babykins still had a firm grip on the balloon string. I was just starting to relax when Babykins leaned over the table to grab a crayon and start coloring. I watched in dismay as the balloon slipped from her grasp.
The tears came fast and heavy, but our waiter had the solution. Within moments he was back at our table with another balloon. An identical balloon. But it wasn't the same.
Babykins just continued to cry and pointed at the ceiling, insisting she wanted the "nother balloon." I was ready to turn this into a life lesson kind of moment when our waiter came out of nowhere with a bar stool and another very tall waiter in tow.
He placed the bar stool under the balloon, made the other waiter climb on, and when the combined height still wasn't enough to reach the balloon, encouraged the waiter on the chair with, "Come on man, be a hero. Jump!" When that still didn't work, he disappeared for a moment and returned with a ruler and a broom. Each had a healthy dose of tape wrapped around the end. The taller waiter was once again forced onto the slightly un-stable bar stool, this time with sticky implements in hand, and, as the whole section of the restaurant watched, he rescued Babykins' balloon.
It was an amazing act of chivalry by the waitstaff. And it is the reason I worry that Babykins will one day have all of the boys in school doing her homework for her. Her application to the convent is filled out and ready to mail.
(And yes, we left that waiter a ridiculously large tip.)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tricks of the Trade
I love the daycare Babykins is going to. The facility is new and clean, there are fun activities and crafts everyday, and most importantly, the women who run the Wobbler Room (where the 12-18 monthers stay) are fabulous.
Unfortunately, Babykins isn't quite as thrilled. We're on day 8 of her attending without me, and she still cries and reaches out her arms to me as I leave (go ahead, let that tear out - it's a very sad sight). The teachers tell me she's crying less each day, but for some reason, she has started on a hunger strike and refuses to eat during the 4 hours she's there.
To combat this hunger strike, the blessedly patient teachers have resorted to some fabulous tricks. It started with the Pacifier Bait and Switch. First they pop out Babykins' pacifier, and when my little one opens her mouth to get it back, they quickly insert a spoonful of yogurt. As soon as it's swallowed, they reinsert the pacifier before Babykins begins to cry. This method is long and messy (Babykins usually comes home with her hair plastered to her head with yogurt), but highly effective.
I was impressed with this tactic, but they weren't done, yet. For solid foods, these saintly women have developed the Drive-By Feeding. They wait until Babykins is sitting quietly in the high chair, focused on what's happening around her, then they casually walk by and drop food on her tray in the hopes that she'll eat it if she doesn't think it came from them. This doesn't have quite the same success rate as the bate and switch, but it does drastically reduce the amount of food that goes flying across the room.
Finally, in an effort to get Babykins to drink something, Teacherkins pulled out all of the stops yesterday with the Stealthy Straw maneuver. Over the weekend, Babykins learned how to drink from a straw. I was hoping that if I sent her drink in with a straw this week, she'd drink it down just for the pleasure of practicing her new skill. I was wrong. After Babykins refused her drink multiple times, Teacherkins tried putting the straw and the pacifier in Babykins' mouth at the same time, figuring that in the course of sucking on the pacifier, Babykins would end up swallowing some juice, too. Unfortunately, Babykins quickly figured out this trick and spit out the straw, but I was still very impressed with the concept.
If there's anything I've learned this week, it's that you should never go head-to-head with a daycare teacher in any game involving strategic maneuvering.
Unfortunately, Babykins isn't quite as thrilled. We're on day 8 of her attending without me, and she still cries and reaches out her arms to me as I leave (go ahead, let that tear out - it's a very sad sight). The teachers tell me she's crying less each day, but for some reason, she has started on a hunger strike and refuses to eat during the 4 hours she's there.
To combat this hunger strike, the blessedly patient teachers have resorted to some fabulous tricks. It started with the Pacifier Bait and Switch. First they pop out Babykins' pacifier, and when my little one opens her mouth to get it back, they quickly insert a spoonful of yogurt. As soon as it's swallowed, they reinsert the pacifier before Babykins begins to cry. This method is long and messy (Babykins usually comes home with her hair plastered to her head with yogurt), but highly effective.
I was impressed with this tactic, but they weren't done, yet. For solid foods, these saintly women have developed the Drive-By Feeding. They wait until Babykins is sitting quietly in the high chair, focused on what's happening around her, then they casually walk by and drop food on her tray in the hopes that she'll eat it if she doesn't think it came from them. This doesn't have quite the same success rate as the bate and switch, but it does drastically reduce the amount of food that goes flying across the room.
Finally, in an effort to get Babykins to drink something, Teacherkins pulled out all of the stops yesterday with the Stealthy Straw maneuver. Over the weekend, Babykins learned how to drink from a straw. I was hoping that if I sent her drink in with a straw this week, she'd drink it down just for the pleasure of practicing her new skill. I was wrong. After Babykins refused her drink multiple times, Teacherkins tried putting the straw and the pacifier in Babykins' mouth at the same time, figuring that in the course of sucking on the pacifier, Babykins would end up swallowing some juice, too. Unfortunately, Babykins quickly figured out this trick and spit out the straw, but I was still very impressed with the concept.
If there's anything I've learned this week, it's that you should never go head-to-head with a daycare teacher in any game involving strategic maneuvering.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Dear God
Dear God,
Thank you for:
Babykins
Thank you for:
- My opposable thumbs. Without them, I couldn't push all the buttons in the elevator.
- My strong hands, that I use to tear up all the magazines in the house.
- My climbing ability, that allowed me yesterday to climb onto a box of diapers and finally reach the light switch! (And thank you for Mama's strong heart, so she didn't keel over when she caught me!)
- My fantastic lungs. If they were smaller, Mama and Daddy might not hear me call at night!
- My stroller. Auntie MO told me it's important to meet my adoring subjects in person at least once a day.
- The Milk Machines. I know I've thanked you for them before, but lately Mama's been saying the word "weaned" and looking at me. I have a bad feeling about this...
- Gravity. It makes throwing my food over the side of the high chair so much more fun :)
- My lack of teeth. It gives me a good excuse not to eat the meat Mama keeps trying to feed me.
- My cute, cute smile. It gets me out of so much trouble!
Babykins
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Spoon/Tub Correlation
This week, Babykins acquired her own collection of bowls, spoons, and forks. They're plastic, brightly colored, and directly responsible for an increase in our water bill.
The first time I put a bowl of yogurt on Babykins tray and handed her a spoon, she immediately dipped it into the bowl, brought it to her mouth, and sucked off the yogurt! Granted, it was the handle end of the spoon she was sucking on, but I was still very proud of her coordination.
The only down-side is that the more often Babykins feeds herself, the more often she ends up in the bath tub. We're currently at 2 baths a day, one after breakfast and one after dinner. In an effort to not turn her into a wrinkly prune, I've stopped feeding her anything even slightly messy at lunch.
Tonight she had pureed mangos, Cheerios, an apple slice, and string cheese for dinner. By the end of the meal, her face, tummy, arms, and legs were all covered with mangos, Cheerios were stuck to her chest, and apple pieces lined her leg. As we carried her straight from her high chair to the tub, pieces of cheese fell from her body, leaving a trail of dinner down the hallway.
It's an exciting new phase of of Babykin's development, and one that the water company is thrilled we've reached. Next week's activity: inventing the full-body bib.
The first time I put a bowl of yogurt on Babykins tray and handed her a spoon, she immediately dipped it into the bowl, brought it to her mouth, and sucked off the yogurt! Granted, it was the handle end of the spoon she was sucking on, but I was still very proud of her coordination.
The only down-side is that the more often Babykins feeds herself, the more often she ends up in the bath tub. We're currently at 2 baths a day, one after breakfast and one after dinner. In an effort to not turn her into a wrinkly prune, I've stopped feeding her anything even slightly messy at lunch.
Tonight she had pureed mangos, Cheerios, an apple slice, and string cheese for dinner. By the end of the meal, her face, tummy, arms, and legs were all covered with mangos, Cheerios were stuck to her chest, and apple pieces lined her leg. As we carried her straight from her high chair to the tub, pieces of cheese fell from her body, leaving a trail of dinner down the hallway.
It's an exciting new phase of of Babykin's development, and one that the water company is thrilled we've reached. Next week's activity: inventing the full-body bib.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I Can Do It Myself!
A few days ago, Babykins figured out how to feed herself Cheerios. It was a great discovery and a big milestone. Babykins was very excited to realize she could control the flow of food into her mouth.
She was so excited, in fact, that since then she has refused to eat anything she can't feed herself. Which basically means that she won't eat anything off a spoon. Goodbye, yogurt. Goodbye, baby food. For the last few days, Babykins has essentially been reduced to Cheerios and rice crackers.
Then, thanks to one of the mommies at play group, we discovered the joy of squeazable food. Picture a large tube of toothpaste filled with pureed food. I handed one to Babykins at dinner last night, and within minutes she had sucked down the entire container.
Unfortunately, they have a mess factor roughly equivalent to handing your 3-year-old a red juice box in the car while driving over a bumpy road. I'll take it, though, for the sweet, sweet success of a happily eating baby.
She was so excited, in fact, that since then she has refused to eat anything she can't feed herself. Which basically means that she won't eat anything off a spoon. Goodbye, yogurt. Goodbye, baby food. For the last few days, Babykins has essentially been reduced to Cheerios and rice crackers.
Then, thanks to one of the mommies at play group, we discovered the joy of squeazable food. Picture a large tube of toothpaste filled with pureed food. I handed one to Babykins at dinner last night, and within minutes she had sucked down the entire container.
Unfortunately, they have a mess factor roughly equivalent to handing your 3-year-old a red juice box in the car while driving over a bumpy road. I'll take it, though, for the sweet, sweet success of a happily eating baby.
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