winning

A principle of engineering is this: great constraints promote great creativity. Whether you're tackling a towering structure, a shrinking household budget, or a personal goal, difficult challenges seem to bring out the best design.

My challenge: make it through the week without a trip to the grocery store. We're leaving for a little mini-vacation, and I am pretty certain I can stretch things in our pantry and freezer to fill a shortened week's menu. Unfortunately, my 5 1/2 year old, "Obi-1," has recently developed a slightly picky streak. While we're generally not accommodating to picky eaters, I also didn't want to enter battles unnecessarily. So, last night I made orange chicken with cauliflower and rice. We've had it before, and all liked it. Honestly, I was feeling (perhaps overly) confident about dinner.

My confidence waned as Obi-1 looked at his plate and announced that he didn't like this meal. We ignored him, and continued passing dinner around the table. He announced louder. His voice got whinier. Finally, I looked directly in his eyes and calmly replied, "I heard you. That is rude to say when somebody makes you a meal. Now, let's eat."

Silly Mama... I thought that was the end of the discussion. Ha ha ha ha ha. Obi-1 looked at his plate. He looked at me. He looked at Mr. Kenobi. He did not eat. Beside him, little brother Obi-2 picked up his fork, took a bite, and said, "I love it, Mama!"

After about 10 minutes of dinner conversation and eating, Obi-1 asked to be excused. The plate hadn't been touched. This is not normal for our household, and I knew he was hungry. Still, I don't force food into my kids - if they're hungry, they eat, and if not, they don't. I don't make alternatives, but I've reckoned with enough stomach flu-ridden nights to know that forcing a child to eat can often come back to haunt you... literally.

We excused Obi-1 to get ready for bed, but informed him of one condition: "You are welcome to leave without dinner, but this is the food I've prepared. The next time you're hungry, you may eat this. You will not have other options until you've had this meal."

He looked a little skeptical, so I went on... "this will be available at breakfast, Obi-1." He shrugged and scooted off to jammies. We had a nice night of book-reading, singing, and sleeping, and this morning Obi-1 came toddling downstairs to let me know that his stomach was "grumbling."

"I bet it's hungry!" I smiled. "I'll go get your food for you." I warmed up the plate from last night and set it on the table in front of me.

Obi-1 turned to look at me with wide eyes. "I don't want this! I wanted oatmeal!" Of course. I had expected this, and would make oatmeal because his brother & I would also like that for breakfast. He was invited to have oatmeal after he ate this food. We had a bit more discussion, but I stuck my ground, calmly. He looked at his food, looked at me, and sat unmovingly.

I phoned a friend, who assured me that this is completely within bounds of motherhood. She then warned me that I may need to stick it out yet another 12 hours or so, if my son is nearly as stubborn as hers. Yikes! I received a message from another friend, who assured me this was a completely reasonable battle. It takes a village, people, and their reassurance encouraged me to stay the course.

Obi-1 stared at his food, meanwhile, and then informed me he wasn't going to eat it. I let him know that if he didn't feel hungry enough for it this morning, he could have it at lunchtime. If he didn't eat it before school started at noon, he could take it for snack-time. He didn't have to eat it right now, but there are no alternatives. His eyes grew very wide, probably imagining Teacher Nancy handing out graham crackers to every other pre-K child, and then handing a baggie of cold chicken and cauliflower to him.

Slowly, over the next two hours, my son ate his dinner/breakfast/morning snack. We're not talking about a lot of food. It was simply a lot of hesitation & procrastination. When he finished, I asked if he had liked it. Of course he did.

My dad claims there's a principle about parenting well that is similar to engineering. You're tested in the tough times and circumstances. Some of these challenges are handed to us, and some we choose. As dad says, "Choose your battles wisely. The ones you enter, you must win."

Winning tastes good.