Foodie Mom, Finicky Child

I said I’d never do it, but I did. I gave my finicky toddler cookies for breakfast.

That was on Monday. On Tuesday she had dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for lunch (“bite the dino’s head off, quick before he runs away,”) and on Wednesday, Dora the Explorer® brand yogurt for dinner followed by a Strawberry Jell-O® chaser. I’m sure the rest of the week will be a carb fest—heavy on the mac and cheese with the possible French fry appetizer.

I started out with great plans for my daughter’s culinary future. When soon-to-be-two-year-old Gianna was nine months old, I began to mold her palate by heightening her sense of smell. Every day we smelled things like balsamic vinegar, coffee, chocolate, lemons and olive oil. These days every now and then when the mood strikes her, she will eat a balsamic-soaked strawberry; but I don’t hold my breath.

Most toddlers (I hear from the gossip around the playground) have a very limited menu: carbs, carbs, carbs with the occasional veggie or protein. I may fare better than some moms: Gianna doesn’t turn away all healthy foods. She likes organic cheese sticks, strawberries, apples, bananas, Annie’s Organic cheddar bunnies and her favorite, Pirates’ Booty, a.k.a. “doodles.” She even manages to scarf down the occasional somewhat-healthy blueberry cereal bar, usually one she’s pilfered from one of her buddies’ snack bags. But, I can’t help but remember the days when broccoli was her friend. Now, it is green and icky.

So, my obligation to nourish my offspring has become a journey to find foods that are healthy, quick, easy and—most important—have toddler appeal. I found that the key is to substitute with as many better-for-you foods as possible. Today, for example, she will get whole-wheat pasta with a side of sweet potato fries. And I’ve decided to wash out the Dora yogurt cups and fill them with plain yogurt drizzled with honey. Let’s she if she notices the difference.

Oh, and for those of you who may be balking at my Monday morning breakfast of champions, at least the cookie was oatmeal.—Nicole Potenza Denis