On a Beautiful Day

Adrian took this one of me.

Lunch with U.O.

Thanks to Tante Chrissy for the last two photographs.

Love Sweet Love

Valentine's Day: an easier "holiday" to not get caught up in. We painted and stamped, rolled and cut. These cookies are pretty great. Our house smelled like cinnamon buns. It was almost plastic free. I'm looking for plastic-free paint options for kids. I'm also looking for plastic-free options for brown sugar. 

 

Working Through It

Inspired by Kal Barteski.

Freue Dich, Christkind Kommt Bald

Tricks, Treats, and Trips

Halloween

The butterfly house at the Science Museum of Minnesota

The Science Museum of Minnesota

Summer

Birthday boy.

Birthday dinner.

Built to scale for you to relieve yourself in.

West Hawk Lake

Finally getting the hang of it.

First day of Kinderschule.

We pulled out one of my old toys; a magnetic puppet play set.

10 months

Struggles

Beets, on the way to becoming beet chips.

Picky eating has been one of my pet peeves since I was a teenager. When I decided I wanted to become a parent, one of the thoughts in the forefront was how I wasn't going to allow my children to become picky eaters. I was going to avoid refined sugar for the first year and beyond. I was going to avoid extra sodium. I was going to only give them whole foods, nothing processed or packaged, including crackers and canned soup. I blabbed about how you just have to be firm and kids will eventually eat what you offer them. I was that person. That annoying, childless know-it-all. 

My son humbled me. 

From the first time he started solids he was picky. At six months if he didn't like something, he would clamp his mouth shut and there was no way to get anything in there. I was frustrated, complaining to my girlfriends and anyone who would listen. Everyone said that he'd grow out of it and I believed that. I was embarrassed. One of the things I was most committed to as a new parent completely backfired on me. 

Things got a bit better, but then they got worse. Way worse. It got to the point where his list of acceptable foods had maybe five things on it. People still told me not to worry. This time I didn't believe them. Everyone gave me advice. Much of it I had tried many times before with no luck. Some of it was simply nonsense. People laughed at me. I got offended; a taste of my own medicine, I guess. I knew that I hadn't been a parent for that long and wasn't an expert, but I also knew that nobody else spent their days with my child. Nobody else knew what our mealtimes were like. Nobody else saw the tantrums and the choice to go to bed hungry day after day.

This pickyness didn't seem right to me. Something in my gut said that his eating came from a deeper issue. I think I'm right. Two people pointed me in a direction that I think will help our family. I have a new attitude towards things and a new form of patience with my son. He's eating a few more foods now (unfortunately, not those beet chips I made). The older he gets the more we can negotiate. I'm hopeful that his eating will get better. 

I'm fairly certain my sons abnormal relationship with food is a part of a larger sensory processing issue. I'm taking care to involve him in more sensory types of play (tactile and auditory) and have started monthly meal plans for lunch and dinner to ensure he gets a good balance of his acceptable foods as well as opportunities to try new ones, if he so chooses. I'm going to try my best to ignore the eating issue until he is older and communicating better.

That's where we're at.

Two and a Quarter

His first photos.

Helping me juice our garden tomatoes.

Dedo is starting the bad habits early.

Adrian's two-year celebration, a few months late.

The morning of his day, we gave him his gift bag to open.

He's been showing interest in dolls and care-giving lately, so we let him choose which doll he liked best. I think it's obvious.

The Cat in the Hat is a current obsession. We were hoping to expand his horizons, but he hasn't taken to Horton.

Ice cream buffet instead of cake.

Given lovely gifts.

Four generations.

She had her own bodyguard.