Feeding the Terrible Two
"No."
"Try some Chicken."
"No."
"Fish?"
"No."
"Apples?"
"No."
About the only things my two and a half year old does not say no to are milk, cheese, juice and noodles. If only I could let her grow up on those things. She probably could live and strive on them but I could not let her. I want her to eat spinach and carrots, whole grains and protein. I want her to eat not just store bought food out of a carton or plastic wrap but my cooking. I guess I brought the frustration upon myself. It is hard enough to be a good cook, harder even to please a two year old.
One day, I scrambled some eggs with scallions and she liked it. The next day I tried scrambled eggs with spinach, she hated it. One afternoon I made oatmeal raisin cookie treats. She munched on them with satisfaction. The next morning, I make oatmeal raisin hot cereal. She hardly opened her mouth. Macaroni and cheese is fine with her but not macaroni and cheese and carrots and peas. Carrot cakes are welcomed. What about carrot meatloaf? Well, maybe two spoonfuls. She'd snatch an Eggo waffle because it looks just like a "tubbie toast." What about those potato pancake Mommy made? I made them just like "tubbie toasts", too. "What's that?" she looked at them suspiciously.
A meal is not a meal without noodles, no matter how many dishes are on the table and how well balanced you plan the meal to be. Her dad and I, we used to have rice almost every day. Now we have rice probably once a week. I cooked her udon, spaghettis, chow-mien, and noodle soups. I made them with carrots, bok choy, tofu, and meat. She picked the veggies, tofu and meat aside and ate only the stringy refined carbohydrates. I am not that easily discouraged. The day she's born, I had promised myself, "I am in this for the long haul no matter how hard it is." I cooked her vegetables every day until one day she started to show interests in the sweet and sour cabbages. Another day, she ate some broccoli and tofu cooked with miso. Today she had potato, carrots and peas salad for lunch. Slowly but surely she had expanded her choices of food.
"Yummy," she said when she had ice cream one day. "Yummy," and wide-eyed when she tasted chocolate for the first time. French-fries needed no introduction, either, she already dipped them with some ketchup like a pro. Mommy's cooking so far hasn't got the "yummy" rating. Well, I cannot compete with the sugar, cocoa, starch and fat craze. Even I cannot resist the temptation of ice cream, chocolates and fries. But I'll keep cooking her my carrot meat loaf, sweet and sour cabbage and miso soup. One day when she's grown and out of the nest on her own, maybe she will miss mommy's home cooking and crave for the carrot meat loaf, sweet and sour cabbage and miso soup. She'll probably say those were yummy then.
Samantha Goes to Preschool
Samantha, my two and a half year old, is enrolled in a summer preschool program. I am counting the days to the start of her first school day, not at all in anticipation of what a new experience this could be for her. I am tormented by doubts and fear: Am I pushing her into something she is not ready for? Did I make the decision solely to serve my own interest, that I can have two hours free time to myself twice a week? The director of the school had reassured me that she is ready. It is not fair to think that the director would make such evaluation only because she stands to gain monetarily. After all, it is because of her professionalism that I chose her school and hers is a popular school. She could easily fill our spot with candidates on the long waiting list. Still my emotion debates with my reason.
My head says Samantha needs to play with her peers. My heart says she's only two years old. My head says she needs to learn how to interact with others. My heart says she's only a baby. I am afraid once she goes to school she'll grow up too fast and she'll adapt to English and forget how to speak her mother tongue. We have such good rapport and bounding using our own mix of Mandarin and English. How I hate to lose that. Being an only child, she does need the school environment for her to seek out companionship and friendship of children her age. She has started showing signs and skills of socializing with her peers. She needs her own growing space. Oh, I rather cuddle her and hold her in my arms forever and ever. If only I could protect her forever and ever.
What if she does not like the school? What if she cries? I know she will cry sadly when I leave her with her teachers and playmates. I will cry even more sadly for having to do so. Bigger kids goes to the same school. What if she gets pushed by bigger kids? She is rather small in size. Being a November baby, she will be the smallest in her class for years to come unless we hold her back one year. The school provides much more input than I can give her at home. She is like a sponge soaking up information in an amazing pace. I hate to stand in the way of her development. Reluctantly, I'll just have to learn to let go.
Seventeen days till Samantha's first day at school.