Letting Go

I admit it, I’m a control freak. I had a timeline for the week of our wedding that was color coded for different family members. I maintain separate lists in a small notebook for different grocery stores. I create a packing list for each family trip in Microsoft Excel. So it has come as kind of a shock that I can’t have complete control over my children too.

I guess I should have figured it out during my first pregnancy when my due date arrived but my baby didn’t. My son was 8 days late. Night after night I ate spicy food, went on long walks. But on each visit to my doctor she said “no progress.” And each time I cried.

Now my son is 2-1/2 and once again I’m experiencing a lack of control. This time it is over vegetables. In April he quit eating them full stop.

I tried everything. I threatened, I cajoled, I begged. I never ever gave him leftovers. I introduced new varieties of vegetables – he’d never had red peppers or edamame, had he? I refused him dessert. I pretended broccolis were trees. I offered condiments – ketchup, ranch dressing. I let him eat with chop sticks and made tiny green pea shish kabobs. I hid them vegetables in other foods, like spinach and bacon quiche. I made meatloaf with carrot and zucchini inside. I tucked shredded zucchini under the cheese in his pizza. I sautéed carrots in butter and brown sugar. I poured maple syrup on sweet potatoes. Nothing.

I grew obsessive, and increasingly emotional. One night I fixed chicken, sweet potatoes and avocado. And he didn’t eat one bite. Once again I cried.

So fine. If he wanted to live on macaroni and cheese and booty, that was his business. I would keep offering him vegetables but I wasn’t going to take it personally if he didn’t have them.

It isn’t easy for me to let go, and I wish I could say that after I did, Miles magically started chowing on broccoli, stuffing green beans into his mouth with two hands. It hasn’t been so neat. But if I can sit quietly while he is eating his dinner, chances are better than fifty percent that he’ll eat at least some vegetables. And at this point I’m calling a couple of spoonfuls of peas a victory. But I’m proud to report that last night he ate an entire corn on the cob, and three pieces of broccoli besides.