My friend Elise was the first one of my friends to have babies, and as a result she was our first go-to expert on Matters Concerning Children.
When her oldest boys were five and four, Elise told me about something that happened at the dinner table one night. Her five year-old didn’t want to eat what she’d fixed for supper, and after some gentle encouragement proved ineffective, E.’s hubby very lovingly outlined what I have come to refer to as P-Dub’s Suppertime Law.
If memory serves, P-Dub’s Suppertime Law went something like this:
Since your mother has prepared a delicious meal for you, you may either eat what she has cooked, or you may leave the table. And if you leave the table, you may not have a snack, alternate meal, or, above all, ice cream. Because if you leave the table, you’re all done eating for the day. Thank you.
Y’all have no idea how brilliant I thought that was when I was twenty-five and single.
The funny thing is that once Alex was old enough to eat real food, D and I put P-Dub’s Suppertime Law into practice. And with the exception of one meal in 2006 which will be known forever in our house as The Unfortunate Lasagna Incident (or: Why We Now Refer To Lasagna As “Pizza Noodles”), we’ve managed to escape a good bit of dinnertime drama thanks to P-Dub’s words-o-wisdom.
Which brings us to tonight. When we had us an old-fashioned Baked Beans Medley Breakdown at the dinner table. Oh yes ma’am we did.
Now for whatever reason, Alex has a very strong sense of when he’s full (what? what must that be like? what? you mean you don’t just keep eating UNTIL YOU’VE FINISHED AN ENTIRE CASSEROLE?), and he doesn’t really care for the feeling of being full (what? what must that be like? what? you mean you don’t just keep eating UNTIL YOU’VE FINISHED AN ENTIRE CASSEROLE?).
Anyway, since the little man seems pretty tuned in to when he’s had enough to eat, D and I usually just ask him to at least try everything that’s on his plate. He doesn’t have to love it or finish it or ask for seconds – he just has to try it. And as a result of the fact that he’s tried a lot of different stuff – at least I guess that’s the reason – Alex likes to eat things like butterbeans and pork tenderloin and roast and sweet potatoes and English peas. He’s not a picky eater at all.
Until tonight. When he spied the aforementioned Baked Beans Medley sitting next to his potato casserole.
I will spare you the details, but the enforcement of P-Dub’s Suppertime Law has never been more nerve-wracking than it was around 6 pm central time. We had quite the showdown on our hands, but when the little man finally realized that there would be no Oreo in his future if he balked at the beans, he decided that he’d give the beans a try.
And y’all. You have never heard such gagging and crying and carrying on in your life. You would’ve thought we were asking him to eat rutabagas covered in moldy hair.
Once Alex finally managed to choke down a lone pinto bean, he decided the beans weren’t so bad. I don’t think the recipe will go to the top of his preferred foods list (#1? Donuts. #2? Chocolate-covered donuts. #3? POWDERED donuts.), but in the end I felt pretty good about the fact that we stood our ground and made him at least try them.
I felt pretty good, that is, when I wasn’t feeling guilty.
It’s been very important to D and me that the dinner table not be a war zone, but tonight, I confess, it was a bit of a battleground. And I did not enjoy it. Which leads me to some questions.
How do y’all handle Situations Regarding Food with your kids? Do you have any hard and fast mealtime rules? When your child resists something you’ve cooked, do you offer something else? Do you let it go? Or do you stand your ground?
Because now I’m second-guessing myself. I know that this isn’t a life-altering dilemma, but it’s making me a little crazy that we let our dinnertime deteriorate over, you know, BEANS. The boy is a good eater, baked beans or no – and I’m wondering if we should have left well enough alone.
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