Here are a few things overheard in our family the last couple of days:
"Why is Magnus crying, Axel?"
"Well, I think he probably just hit himself."
"No, Axel, you cannot use the iPad for a plate."
"We always wear underwear at the dinner table."
Near the kitchen utensils in Target. . .
"Look, Mama, knives for kids."
"They do not make knives for kids."
"But they are colorful, and that yellow one is just my size."
"They do not make knives for kids!"
"Why?"
Eero has recovered from his ear infection, so we're in good shape healthwise again. We've finally got them eating rice cereal and baby food, and it's funny how they all take it differently. Eero opens his mouth wide and leans into the spoon. Rex licks the spoon like a dog; it never really makes it in his mouth, so a lot ends up on his chin and bib. Magnus is not really interested in baby food yet, but loves to suck on pickles. We've realized that, behaviorly, he is the most similar to Axel, so it will be interesting to see if he continues to follow that path as he grows. Axel never got into baby food, and pretty much went right to cubes of cheese.
We've got a couple of seats that clip on to the island and they can sit in there and play and watch the activity in the kitchen. May need one more, because that seems to keep them happy for quite awhile. I leave them in the living room to play, but pretty soon they're crying because they don't know where I am. Actually, sometimes it's because one is trying to pull the other's face off, or hitting someone with a rattle. But sometimes not.
Here's my column for the week, and some pictures. . .
Not a quality image, but it's telling of the activity in our house - someone is sleeping and someone else is bugging him. . .
Magnus cannot be left alone in a bouncy chair, because in about two seconds he's flipped to his tummy. He doesn't mind this, but has almost flopped out the top a few times, even when he's buckled.
Here is Rex's fuzzy head.
Jesse is hosting a panel discussion with E, Rexy, and Mags.
Again, kind of a fuzzy shot, but you can see Eero's starting-to-curl fuzz, and Rex's happy chubby face. Love it.
Feeding the Masses
We have a variety of eating habits at our house. I grew up with a mom who didn’t enjoy cooking, though everything she made was good. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not she was capable of decent cooking; she just didn’t care to do it very much. She prepared simple meals that she knew we would eat. We were never made to eat our vegetables or anything else we didn’t like.
My dad grew up in a family of nine children where they ate what was presented to them or they didn’t eat. There was not much he didn’t like and so eating at our house was probably a huge disappointment for him (spaghetti again?). Luckily, in that regard, he was an over-the-road truck driver who spent a lot of time away from home, regularly choosing for himself more satisfying meals.
On top of my limited experience with a variety of food, I have a texture issue. There are many things that have a fine flavor, but I cannot tolerate the way they feel in my mouth, e.g. mushrooms, peas, Mike & Ike’s, etc. This is a point of contention with my husband and my outlaws, but I just can’t help it. Wouldn’t my life be easier if I loved all food? I wish I did. At the very least I wouldn’t have to have that conversation every time I passed over the cooked carrots during a Nelson family meal.
I have become much more adventurous as I’ve aged, and though I will probably never eat certain things I’ve developed some new favorites by keeping an open mind. For the first 20 years of my life I thought I didn’t like salad. Turns out I don’t like Ranch or French dressings, the only kinds available in my fridge as a child. I love Thousand Island, Italian, and Caesar especially. I just needed to suck it up and be open to possibilities.
Jesse eats like my dad, because a wide range of food was offered to him at a young age. He adores chow Mein, chili loaded with veggies, and every kind of fluffy marshmallow salad available at a big church potluck. Aside from marshmallow fluff, he does not have a big sweet tooth, unlike me. The first time I ate dinner with his family, on his birthday, he turned down a piece of his own birthday cake. I told him then I didn’t think it would work out between us. Shows what little I know . . .
In spite of our different tastes we manage to find things that will please us both. I pretend I don’t see the celery in the soup, which I put in because Jesse (and now Axel) loves it. We have peas on the side of chicken a la king and he mixes them in the sauce on his own plate. Homemade pizza works great, as each person adorns his/her side with desired toppings. A lover of spicy things, I make enchiladas with mild sauce instead of hot so everyone else will eat them.
And now we have Axel and three more little boys. I don’t even want to think about the amount of food we will need on the table in about 15 years. But right now we need to make sure all our boys are given the opportunity to try various cuisines.
It’s working well so far with the Hurricane (who deserves his nickname at the dinner table as much as the rest of his life – his plate, the table, and the floor are a complete path of destruction.) I cannot honestly name anything that Axel will not eat. He devours vegetables and fruits of all kinds. If he sees something new, he doesn’t scrunch his nose at it. He grabs it and asks what it is, and before we can answer he’s taken a bite. He’s not always thrilled with it, but his willingness to try it is almost inspiring.
When we go out for pizza, Axel picks off the olives so he can eat them first. Though our garden was somewhat neglected this year, we did get some crop. A person would think we were growing candy out there, the way our oldest boy bolts outside to have fresh green beans and tomatoes on the spot, whether or not they have dirt on them. The other night he was very upset that Jesse ate all the beans at dinner, because he wanted more.
I have to believe that his enthusiasm for trying and eating all kinds of foods, in spite of my limited palette, is credited to our giving him things without bias and letting him make his own decisions regarding his likes and dislikes. This has all come to light as we’ve started feeding our littlest boys their baby cereals and pureed fruits and vegetables. I’ve began to wonder, in addition to how tall they’ll be and what they’ll be when they grow up, what kinds of eaters they will be. For their sake I hope they are like their dad, or dinners with their outlaws could be brutal.
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