4th of July

For the past couple of years, we have begun celebrating the 4th of July at my sister's home.  I think I've already told you that she has quite a bit of property and nice home layout for entertaining large groups.  This year was no different. A buffet of yummy snacks with friends and family made for a very nice time.  This year, however, I am still healing from my hysterectomy and while I am certainly not suffering much at all, I do tire quickly, so I planned to make this a short celebration.  This year, Candice, who in past years was unable to make these parties, was escorted in by Aaron! I was excited to see her there (I do enjoy showing her off).  Roy, however, had to work and Wolfie was more interested in his computer games and stayed home - so it was just me and my baby girl this year. 

I'm a picky eater. I have been since I was in diapers.  And I'm not very interested in trying new foods - my theory is that if I find something new to love, it will only be one more thing I have to try to avoid eating too much of  - cest la vie.  My sister, Brenda, who loves to cook and very creatively too, was attempting to coax me into trying one of her weird concoctions which I adamantly declined leading us into a conversation about whether or not it's a good idea to force children to eat foods that they don't care for.  

I was telling the story of my mother (who was also sitting with us at this time) and how she had gone through a period of trying to "force" me into eating things I didn't want. I remember sitting in front of the television watching cartoons with the biggest glass of Kool-aid and a dreaded peanut butter sandwich.  Take a bite - wash it down like a pill.  Take a bite  -don't chew - and just wash it down.  This went on until the sandwich was just about gone.  I recall another time, sitting at the family table, my father insisting that I eat the mashed potatoes.  I sat there talking myself into it - "Karen, it's only mashed potatoes!!"  Nope.  One swallow and then up they came.  Dad was so frustrated.  My mother visited with the doctor about my eating habits, and he reassured her that I was getting all the nutrients I needed - I was healthy, so no worries.  And so mom came to the mindset that it simply wasn't a battle she wanted to pick anymore, and that children should not grow up experiencing the act of eating as upsetting and traumatic.  Thereafter, she would cook for the family and, if it was something I didn't care for, I would get a plate of meatballs with ketchup (or whatever).  I've always been a pretty good meat-eater, so usually I would have the meats without all the sides.  No big deal.  Right?  

So, my sister, Brenda, states that I "should have been forced to eat everything", and my son, Aaron, agrees.  I, however, defend my mother's choice (thanking her again), letting her know that I was in agreement with her decision and have obliged my own children in the same fashion.  Then I brought up that I was known for going to FIVE different places to pick up fast food so that everyone in my home could eat exactly what they were craving that day - and they were happy for it too! And my son, who at this moment was siding with my sis,  had also been happy that I had obliged him. Candice comes to my rescue with confirmation that I had in fact bent over backwards at times to appease everyone's cravings - and that she too was thankful for it.  (I telepathically squeeze and kiss her.)  

All this isn't to say one way is right and the other is wrong - I suppose it's just to say I don't think I was wrong in the way I handled it.  It's the way our family ran and it worked.  I suppose if it had been too inconvenient for me, I made everyone choose one place to eat from or I made dinner and they ate what they wanted from it or found something else.  

I turned to Aaron and ask him how he might have felt had I forced him to eat those things that he didn't care for and I'm sure he mulled it over quietly, despite his response.  But later, Aaron was eating one of my sister's creative appetizers, leaving the bread as he didn't care for that part.  Opportunity presents itself!  And I chide (as I grin from ear to ear), "No. It doesn't matter if you like it or not, you need to eat it all." (As if to "force" him into eating something he did not like.)  He grinned too - "getting it" - and he ate it all, in spite of himself.  Funny.