Why not giving in can be so valuable

I had a battle of wits today with my little son Alec. It started at dinner time, where Pieter and I are trying to continue our pattern of sitting around our dining table to have dinner with the kids, without distraction, no TV, and maybe just occasionally jazz or down tempo music in the background. We have done this many times before but in the summer we also eat outside, inside, anywhere to escape the heat and to eat in peace. Usually, despite our best intentions, we all eat for about 12 minutes together, and then Alec wants to depart and play. He is not interested in his food until possibly an hour later and by then Bella is on dessert and he conveniently eats alternative food, peanut butter and jelly, bananas, apple, and or just maybe 2 more spoonfuls of his dinner.

Today was different. I made one of his favorites, spaghetti and meatballs, an easy kid friendly meal which I knew he would likely eat at least half of it with no fuss.

When he received a spoonful of plain spaghetti, which he gladly played and then ate, I should have known he would refuse any sauce laden cut up spaghettis in his little dish.

However, I was determined to make sure he would eat. He was a little ill over the weekend and I knew he should eat well, and get some protein in him and not just feast on long noodles with a touch of olive oil. So I asked, I told him, and I insisted that he have his food. Of course, this was not simple. It was interwoven with bouts of crying, spitting out food, coughing so close to vomiting, crying again, catching his breath from crying, yelling, almost pushing his bowl to the floor, and then just some individual noodles to follow...

Over a period of 55 minutes, I endured his crying, screaming and utter misery while I asked, pleaded, spoke to him sternly, and tried every trick to get him to take a few bites. No matter what I tried, he refused, and even just held the food in his mouth and continued to cry...

But no matter what or how he reacted, I just felt like it was not something I could give up... This was not a battle of wills, even though he probably thought it was, it was about love. I did not want to hear him cry another note, no more tears, no more looking at me, or looking away from me to avoid the spoon. How can a little child create so much anguish in me while I know I had to persist. Something was telling me not to give up.

I was not fully angry with him just confused and unsure how to react to his distaste and firm determination to not eat. I used gentle soft words except for once or twice where I just grappled for stronger words, but couldn't find any to take effect. Now to anyone reading this, you have to know that this is a slight departure for me. I usually speak with volume, in a quickened pace and am very determined. Somehow with this little guy, he reacts differently, and focused eye contact, gentle words and piercing sincerity seems to encourage his goodness while anger only seems to upset him.


After hearing his 50th minute of crying and defiance, he looked at me, and as he was catching his breath from crying I think he heard or felt that I was tearing up wondering how to convince this little strong soul that I knew what was best for him.
Maybe he was just exhausted, he leaned his head against my heart and he slowly calmed his rapid little breath and he became quiet.

He just waited as if he knew this could not go on, or else he know that I would not give up, or perhaps he realized that he could defer and trust me. I kept on repeating calmly and gently that I wanted him to eat because it was good for him, that I knew he didn't like it but that he has to eat. As he quieted, my voice slowed and I paused, just wondering what he would do.

I held the spoon with the spaghetti for what seemed like hours, but was probably 10 seconds, close to his mouth wondering if he would voluntarily just take it. His mouth stayed closed, so I tapped his mouth with my finger and asked him to open...and then then slowly it gave way.

Amazingly, he had 10 bites after that, and with each bite I repeated very softly that I utterly loved him and that I was so happy he was eating. I did not wait for him to stop rather I let him eat half his bowl and then let him play with Bella, which he was excited to do and ran over to her in the living room to join her.

The little picture above is him is right before I took him for a bath tonight and he was very happy. So was I, and before I think about the rest of the week and how to approach meals Tuesday through Friday with the family on the table...

I am glad I didn't give in.