Friday, June 25, 2010

About Dinner with Wyatt

Tonight at dinner we were having the usual battles regarding the cuisine du jour. Wyatt, my soon to be six year old son, was behaving like the exorcist, spinning in his chair, standing up and down, and exhibiting his best "eyes rolling back in his head" look. He was showing his strong contempt with the food he was offered.

What do we eat in the house of Our Simple Life? Well, our dinner this evening consisted of spinach ravioli, steamed green beans and squash with salt and butter, and sliced cucumbers in sweet Italian dressing. Quite a tasty meal if you ask me.

And on a sided note, I often get questioned by my husband, "How come you aren't serving more meat???"

My logical response is always the same, "We don't have to eat meat every day, Dear." Actually, we've had meatless meals a couple times a week since before Wyatt was born. So this alone is not so unusual.

BUT getting Wyatt to sit still for any length of time, longer than it takes for him to pick his nose, is still somewhat impossible. I think he can actually pick his nose and run a sprint at the same time, so maybe my comparison is ill founded. However, this dinner time chaos has been chronic. If nose picking was part of dinner, I might actually have some kind of advantage. But thank goodness it is not.

In addition to Wyatt's normal spastic tenancies on this splendid evening, he was refusing to eat his ravioli. "I'm only eating the veggies, Mom. That ravioli looks like raw sewage." My son has a rather colorful way with words, especially when they come to disgusting things.

With dinner under siege, I got creative and said, "Hey Wyatt, Do you know what that ravioli really looks like?"

Wyatt shakes his head, "No Ma. What is it? Tell me. Tell me."

I began slowly, looking him in the eye with my head tilted to the side for emphasis. I squinted my eyes and said, "Well, I think they look like a giant eye. Like the eye of a giant squid." This was not far from the truth as the dark round circles where the spinach and cheese filling lies between the pasta dough does resemble the eye of the aforementioned aquatic beast.

My son's face lighted up and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yeah. I think your right Mama," he blurted out.

I continued carefully with emphasis just in the right areas, "And I think you are the sperm whale who is going to eat his squid eyes tonight, right?"

"Mom, Mom, I need to get out the book with the giant squid inside it to make sure..." Wyatt rushes away from the table to the bookshelves, "...to make sure it looks just like the squid eyes!"

"Get back here!! No! Sit down NOW!" I roared at him as he jumped flea-like toward the books.

Wyatt came back to the table. This whole time he was carrying around his ravioli. Where else should it be? Plates? Who needs plates with plates for hands... It was still gently cradled in his junior man hands.

We have a bench seat on one side of our trestle table because when Wyatt was two he almost tipped himself over in the chairs daily by putting his feet on the table lip and shoving back. He would try to rock the chair on it's back legs from the confines of his booster seat. I had to buy the bench seat to avoid the emergency room visit to stitch up the back of his head.

Wyatt wiggled around the end of the bench seat and took a big half moon bite of his ravioli. He chewed with an expression of acceptance.

"What does it taste like, Wyatt? Is it chewy or gummy? Does it taste like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or does it taste like play dough? Be a food reviewer and tell me the flavors. If you were going to write about it in a magazine what would you say?" I figured questioning him will make his brain work and settle his body a little.

The ferret running on the wheel in his head sputtered out, "Play dough. But I like it."

"When have you been eating Play dough lately, Wyatt?"

"I haven't. I just remember."

"Mom, I just farted." Wyatt shared with glee. Then he continued, "It smells good!" while he broke out into laughter.

My stone cold, no expression face does nothing to deter him. Where does he get all this from? His little sister is NOTHING like this and I swear I am raising them the same.

Ten minutes and two ravioli later, I excuse my son from the table. I am basically mentally exhausted. Sometimes it can take him 20 minutes to eat five bites of food. I just want to put my head down on the table and sob from time to time.

I think the only logical solution is to buy this:



Yes, the object of last resort. A velcro suit. I can zip him in, attach him to his wall, shove a table in front of him and walk away. Then he can learn to talk himself through dinner every night.

I think it would look lovely in my kitchen too. My kitchen resembles a three ring circus when my son is at dinner so I say . . . "Why not!"

By the way . . . Am I actually complaining that my son said he would ONLY eat his veggies? I just realized this factoid. I guess the world is really upside down right now, isn't it.

18 comments:

Suzi said...

The comment I got the other night was "I'm not eating this CRAP food MOM!"

I didn't realize I served crap. After all everything I prepare comes from the fridge, not the chicken coop or the horse pasture.

jane augenstein said...

OMG, this post is funny but not really, not for you anyway! I mean, from this side of the fence it's funny cause I have no kidlets at home (mine only one is going to be 37 this year...groan!)
From your side of the fence it must be a hair-pulling-outa-your-head experience! Kids, what do you DO????
Good luck this kid is a pistol for SURE!!!
hugs...
Jane

Holly, the Old Western Gal said...

Good heavens, is it a post from Julia, who has been AWOL for weeks????!!!

I'm glad you didn't ask for advice, but rather just told the horrifying tale of your dinnertimes. Because I don't know what I'd do that wouldn't land you in AA at some point.

On the up side, Ella is nothing like her big brother, in terms of eating and dinnertime!!!

Maybe you could tell Wyatt that eating more would give him more, uh, ammo, for those delicious-smelling farts...

Julia said...

Yes, Holly your strategy would work with him but I have to do all I can to discourage the farting around my house. It's ridiculous.

And it's only been 10 days since my last post and it's SUMMER!

brokenteepee said...

He was so behaved when he was here.....

Doris Sturm said...

See, now you know how to want him eat all his veggies - just serve him the raw sewage raviolis ;-) I love spinach raviolis by the way and I was raised with very little meat meals. I don't eat it at all now.
Actually, isn't Wyattrunning whilst buggering just as dangerous as running with scissors?

What is it with the male species and farting? I fail to understand!

Well, I can see you have your hands full. You're such a good mom, Julia!

Julie Harward said...

I'm so glad my years of all this...is over! Makes me tired just reading about it LOL My Mom always was smart this way and used reverse thinking with her kids and I did it with mine...it works! :D

FoxyMoron said...

I have two raised exactly the same way and one was almost a female version of your Wyatt, and my son is sensitive and well behaved. Mostly.
Love this post, remember this too shall pass. ;)

Liz Mays said...

I had a heck of a time trying to keep my son settled while eating at one point too. It drove me nuts!

theUngourmet said...

My son never sits down through an entire meal either. It must be a boy thing. Maybe they'll grow out of it. :)

theUngourmet said...

I have to say one more thing. Maybe you should serve raw sewage and Suzi should serve crap one night just to get everyone's reaction. ;D Of course, a post would be in order.

Aunt Spicy said...

Seriously, if I ever get to your neck of the woods I am inviting myself for dinner at your house and dessert at Suzi's (have you seen the cupcakes on her blog, yummy!

Aunt Spicy said...

ps. the velcro suit is a brill idea!

Raven said...

My kids used to complain cuz I never cooked much but that's because every time I did they grimaced and squealed, "I'm not eating THAT?!" Why waste the food? I'm clearly not as creative as you when it comes to getting my kids to eat. lol

I should have bought that velcro suit a long time ago!

Also, it is amazing to me how different kids can be even if you raise them the same. My kids are as different as night and day and I swear I didn't do much different with them. It's gotta be genetics.

Grand Pooba said...

Hahaha, I was just going to say something about the veggies but you beat me to it! And what a brilliant trick to get him to eat the ravioli. Even if it did taste like play dough ;o)

Karen said...

You have the patience of a saint!

Sara said...

Aw! Farting is allowable if they say "Excuse me." Ha! He's an ants in his pants kinda boy. I feel ya.

CastoCreations said...

Oh my goodness...I've seen my future. hahahaha My son is 9 1/2 months old but I can already picture this scene playing out in front of me. Oh dear Lord in Heaven give me strength!!!

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