A Mother’s Acceptance of a Picky Eater
By Veronica MacDonald Ditko
An Accidental Anthropologist
When I had a newborn, I invited a friend over for lunch. Her son was about 18 months older than mine. She gave him chocolate milk.
I thought to myself, “I’m not going to give my kids chocolate milk; if they don’t like the real stuff too bad.” I was trying really hard not to judge, she’s an awesome gal, and remembered how different her upbringing was from mine. She told me her grandmother made her meals in Jello.
I, on the other hand, had a choice between plain oatmeal or Grapenuts for breakfast. It was a treat to add raisins to the slop. Yes, nature’s candy. (I always despised the houses that gave those out for Halloween! I was desperate!)
Then I discovered I had a picky eater. I now consider tomato sauce a vegetable. And he won’t even eat that.
Our well-intentioned new pediatrician told me I had to hide vegetables in his foods like meatloaf. I was going to open my mouth and graciously agree but protest. I ended up just nodding my head. She had no idea what I was up against. He won’t even eat meat loaf!
He would know. He always knows. Next time I’ll tell his doctor that he’s going to be a sommelier. Not a trace or hint of any flavor goes unnoticed. He challenges me to have chef-like status –perfection at every meal. And I don’t hide a thing because how will he ever make good choices in restaurants or cafeterias when he’s older?
New mothers out there don’t despair if you discover you have a picky eater too. I continue to cook as I normally do and give him a portion if he’s curious. I don’t push it because he will strike until bedtime and not eat a thing if we force him. My favorite TV chef, Lydia Bastianich, once said if kids smell meals for long enough, they will eat them. I have found this to be true.
Case and point: last summer he actually tried two things on his own accord. He now asks for them regularly – pizza (without tomato sauce) and corn on the cob. It only took five years!
I have also found that the bigger he gets the more food he needs. And what he used to eat just doesn’t fill him up enough. I know one day he’s going to beg me for a savory meal. I just know it. But it may take another ten years, so I’m not going to hold my breath…just yet….
Veronica MacDonald Ditko is originally from the Jersey Shore, but married and settled in northern New Jersey. Her journalism career started a decade ago after studying Psychology and Anthropology in Massachusetts. She has written for several newspapers and magazines including The Daily Hampshire Gazette, The Springfield Union News and Sunday Republican, Happi, Chemical Week, The Hawthorne Press, The Jewish Standard, Suite101.com and more.