Smiley Faces and Other Delicious Compromises

Our Little Fox has always been a fantastic negotiator.  New foods are a little less dangerous when we add some sprinkles. Old foods are a little less dull when we add some chocolate.

True to form, he was woefully disappointed when I told him I was going to make some delicious homemade banana bread for his class.  He normally loves my banana bread but he seemed concerned that it wasn't quite right for class snack. Apparently, banana bread just isn't edgy enough to take to Kindergarten.

Naturally, he had no other viable suggestions of his own. Store bought cookies?  Nope.  Pop Tarts?  Nope.  Candy? Ice cream?  JUMBO PIXIE STICKS!?  Something awesome like that!?!?  Nope.  Nope.  Nope.

I told him it had to be banana bread.  It just had to.

Banana bread is delicious and it's healthy-ish and if our First Kindergarten Class Snack is homemade banana bread, it would let the teacher know that I read that long Good Food memo they send home every school year; the one that urges us not to send our kids to school hopped up on Cheetos and candy bars and Red Bull.

I needed that Good Parenting Point to make up for the fact that we sent Fox to school in shorts when it was rainy and 50 degrees outside and every single other parent sent their kids in coats and pants.  It was so unseasonably cold in September.  The Universe clearly wanted to make us look bad in front of all the new parents and teachers.  He's lucky I didn't send raw spinach.  

I needed a win.  And, honestly, banana bread is one of the only From Scratch things I can bake with a fairly high success rate.

I once made a beautiful white chocolate souffle.  It was delicious and easy and I started to wonder if I missed my calling.  Maybe I was supposed to be a very famous professional souffle maker who travelled the world and made souffles and gave inspirational speeches about how great I am at making souffles.  That's a legitimate and highly paid position in real life, right?  Not surprisingly, like so many other of my attempts at From Scratch glory, my one good souffle was a complete fluke.

But not banana bread.  Banana bread has always been loyal to me.

Unfortunately, loyal and healthy-ish and cheap and easy is boring to Kindergartners.

So we compromised.  We dressed up our trusty old loaf.

We added chocolate chips.
We poured it into muffin tins (everything is better when shaped like a cupcake).
"And why not smiley faces?" Little Fox asked.

My kid -- with the needing his food to nourish AND amuse him.  Adorable and only slightly obnoxious, right?

In the end, a small and delicious compromise goes a long way.  I was able to send my homemade banana bread and Little Fox was able to bring a snack to school that garnered him a little extra street cred with his fellow Kindergartners.  "SMILEY FACES!"

He told me that his muffins were yummy!

He was ready with suggestions for his next class snack.  "Bake something with marshmallows!"

Marshmallows.

My old foe.  Of course.  It has to be...marshmallows.

Sly Spinach (and Party Hats)

We started with an assortment of raw veggies.

A fingerful of spinach.
A bite of tomato.
A nibble on a mushroom.

Then we started placing them close to one another.
Then we started piling them on TOP of one another.
Then we nonchalantly suggested different "sauces" to dip with ("...because those veggies can get pretty dry.").

And then one day I called it what it is. "Here's your milk and water, your half sandwich, your apples and strawberries, and your salad with Italian dressing."

A fleeting look of somethingorother crossed his face as he probably recalled a not-so-distant memory: a boy hero making a passionate declaration to NEVER EVER even TRY to eat a salad.

All those weird vegetables TOUCHING one another?! NEVER.  EVER.

But he had a salad for lunch today: spinach, tomato, sweet peppers, carrots, with a light drizzle of Italian dressing.

Attention, World! Our kid is eating like a little human being! After years of negotiation, we managed to do this ONE THING right: we tricked our oft-irrational little food tyrant into eating a salad.

I didn't eat a salad until I was 14 and I had to put a cup of French dressing on it (the start of a decade long love affair with French dressing) so I consider him a prodigy of sorts.

I can honestly say that all that sobbing at the table was totally worth it. Grown up sobbing, naturally. Kids are strong, resilient, adaptable. They learn and change and grow and survive. Parents are slow and lumpy with mushy brains and thin skin. Parents are the ones who walk around looking more than a little shell shocked after years of trying to convince a small, demented, lovely creature that cutting his carrots into discs instead of spears does not actually change the taste in a way discernable to the Not Crazy.

But we trudge onward, the stewards of our brilliant betters. Onward, albiet little less gracefully than we'd hoped because of all the adult sobbing.

The day that he finally doesn't accuse me of trying to ruin his life with vegetables is a cause for celebration.  Where's my party hat?