She Eats Bananas, Eggs, and Yes, Chocolate

I'm singing the Picky Eater Blues lately. My girl is oh-so meticulous about what she chooses to put in her mouth. When it comes to dinner entrees we are down to three or four things. Pasta with butter, cheese, and broccoli that she picks out. Couscous with butter, cheese, and peas that she picks out. Scrambled eggs will do in a pinch. (And it's always a pinch. Perhaps I should start raising hens.)

Until very recently Amelie even rejected pizza. I was outraged. A child who won't eat pizza? So I went to work on this. (You would think that I'd choose a more valiant crusade, like kale or spinach. But no. I wanted a normal, pizza-eating child.) And wonder of wonders, she eats some pizza now. But only broccoli pizza. And she won't eat the bread. She carefully picks off the broccoli and cheese and eats those. Just to keep me on my toes, it seems. (Though I suppose I did choose the right crusade.)

I get such a high when Amelie eats something green. It's quite a feeling, like I've just won an all-expenses-paid vacation for two to sunny Jamaica. It's a level of euphoria that's entirely out of proportion to the situation.

Oh, and my girl has so many rules - ridiculous rules! Have you ever heard of a child who will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while she's riding in the car? I swear, if I put a pb&j on a plate in front of her at the table, she won't touch it. But I'll stick it in a baggie and five minutes later, as we're rolling down the block, she'll munch it happily en route to the store or playground. Same for baby carrots. She only eats them when she's in motion. When I put them on a plate, alas, they lose all their sex appeal.

The New York Times recently ran an article called Picky Eaters? They Get It from You. I read it with a guilty sense of recognition. Yes, I was the child who would eat only spaghetti with red sauce. Apparently this is an evolutionary response - a survival mechanism designed to prevent us from ingesting potentially dangerous things. So I suppose I should be more understanding of Amelie's finicky nature, and proud to have such a Darwinian masterpiece of a daughter.

An accompanying article called The Experts Suggest offers a few strategies for us meal-challenged parents. It seems I'm doing everything wrong: Making Amelie a separate dish instead of serving her what her parents eat, and resorting to bribery (if you eat some spinach I'll let you watch that video!).

Well, it's back to the cutting board tonight. Onward I go, clinging to the slender hope that my girl will eat something green, transporting me to a kind of bliss unknown even to the most deeply meditative and enlightened monks of the Himalayas....

picky eaters