Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2001-08-07 - 9:02 a.m.

Get Them Young

Oldest child just sauntered out of the kitchen, chewing a piece of sourdough bread with liverwurst.

I love that. I loved that I got in there during that oh-so-short period of time years ago where she was willing to put new foods in her mouth, and before she had heard anyone say "liverwurst" in that tone of voice that people reserve for things like "root canal," and "form 1040." When it was so much fun to be able to put your own food in your mouth with fingers, and when anything Momma was eating was intriguing and samplable. I got in there with the liverwurst when the decisions about food were still being made in her mouth, not her head.

Decisions built in the head of an eleven-year-old are not always architecturally pleasing, but they're indestructible, you know.

I got in there with spinach, too, in the form of spinach dip. So now, anything with spinach in it may be sampled. Someday, someone's going to tell her that liverwurst and spinach are disgusting, and that may be the end of that. But until then, she's a happy camper.

I missed that window of opportunity with Younger Child. I was probably too busy with a preschooler to do much except toss a few Goldfish her way, and consequently, there aren't may foods on her acceptable list. Liverwurst isn't on there. Nor spinach in any form, nor pesto, artichokes, or a whole raft of items that Older Child will happily consume.

Younger Child is Pizza Girl. And Hot Dog Girl. In fact, if I ordered her a cheese pizza with hot dogs on it, she'd be in Nirvana. Especially if I let her wash it down with orange soda.

I'm really in favor of family dinner. I've written about this before. I think it's important that we all sit down together. My problem is this: I've backed myself into an ugly corner, where the choices are few. I can serve food that I like to eat and be unable to enjoy it while they whine and perform fork mutilation on the food and each other, or serve food that they will eat and gag down Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Dinner in the name of solidarity. (When I was a kid, I loved that stuff, but I thought it was called Crap Dinner. I'm sticking with that opinion.)

Okay, I do have a third option, and it's actually the one I usually take - fix two different dinners. One for youngest, prominently featuring the Bright Orange Food Group, and one for me, featuring the Green Food Group. Older Child then picks and chooses what she wants from each, which is why I dread Nutrition Week at school where they ask them to write down what they eat and yes, she really did have tortellini with pesto and Cheetos for dinner last night.

I've remarked to friends that Younger Daughter is hard to feed, and had it pointed out that actually she is very easy to feed. She eats about four things, all affordable and available - how hard can that be? I mean, cats are easy to feed, too - just put down that same kitty kibble day after day. Buy a new sack when you run low. Well, that's my kid, too. You don't get fancy on the cat, and you don't serve my kid Mediterranean Pasta Salad with feta and sun-dried tomatoes. Just keep those hot dogs coming.

I just hope she grows out of it. I really, really love food. There's such an incredible world of tastes out there for someone who is willing to stretch a little. I guess eight is not a very stretchy age. But I still wish I'd gotten in under the wire with a few things before she finished shellacking her attitude.

If you have a toddler, feed him liverwurst. Now.

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