In my house, we have food battles. No, not food fights where people start throwing things and I am left to clean up the mess. But rather, food battles where I tell my children what they have to eat and they refuse, ultimately heading to bed hungry.
Most of our battles center around vegetables. Dizzle won't touch them. Any of them. All things green are apparently evil and will kill you if they touch your lips. In fact, if you even look at them, your eyes will ooze out of your head and you will die a slow painful death. Doodle agrees wholeheartedly with Dizzle, but at least I can get her to eat corn and beans (yes, I know neither of those are technically a vegetable.)
Dilly, on the other hand, is a saint. If it is food, she'll eat it. She doesn't care if it's a fruit, a vegetable, a starch or an internal organ. That girl is hungry and she doesn't care how she gets fed.
Our vegetable battles have been going on with Dizzle and Doodle since they transitioned from pureed baby foods. With Dizzle, that was over four years ago. Four years is a long time and I was almost ready to give up. Until yesterday. Because yesterday, Dizzle and Doodle asked to have salad for lunch. And not only did they ask, but they both ate it and wanted more. No bribing. No yelling. No hunger strikes. WTF?
It's obvious to me what has happened. Someone came into my home and stole my children and replaced them with androids or they were successfully brainwashed. Either way, I don't really care. All I really care about is that the next time Dizzle and Doodle tell me they hate vegetables, I can laugh in their faces, tell them they are lying and make them eat them. Being a mom is so awesome ...