Veggie Table

I've been trying the participation method of garnering the boys' interest in veggies. I find them a job to do in hopes that they will want to eat what they helped make. It's been successful with at least the first bite.

I planned some steak and veggie skewers for the grill and thought up the perfect jobs for the boys. They helped wash a bowl full of peppers and mushrooms and then I set them at the table and assigned their next job. I gave Isaac a basting brush and a small bowl of seasoned olive oil and told him to "paint" the veggies. I gave Ian a pack of wooden skewers and demonstrated how to fill them with veggies. I figured they might have that done by the time I sliced and skewered the steak. As I assembled my last steak skewer, Ian proudly announced, "Look, Mom! I made a scarecrow!" Sure enough, he had made Tinker Toys of the sticks and veggies and had built a tall stick man. I wish my hands had not been all meaty and I had caught a picture of it.

Today I gave each of the boys a baggie of crackers to crush. I figured they'd love that destructive job. I showed them how they could squeeze them and pound them into small crumbles. I put some pecans in the food processor and turned to check their progress. I saw two little boys happily munching on crackers.

They left me speechless with our snack yesterday. I sliced up some red, yellow, and orange sweet chilis and set them on the table with a bowl of hummus. I called it a rainbow snack. They actually ate it. The peppers - multiple peppers - went into their mouths and were summarily chewed and swallowed. Miracles happen.

Ian has reached a new level of independence. For some reason, now it is OK to try new foods or previously snubbed foods. He even gets up and completely dresses himself. I'm loving this phase. Well, most of it. The other evening, after our nightly insistence that he try to pee before bed, he comes bouncing back into the bedroom, looking like Pooh Bear, with nothing more than a shirt and a permanently sticky face. I requested, "Ian? Can you get some undies?" He replied, "I can bark like a dog," and "woofed" on out of the room.

I want sleep NOW! But, first...

I finally admit I'm a sleep fighter.  That's the first step, right?  An hour past bed time last night, my eyelids were so droopy tired, I was using them for slippers, yet I found myself in the closet, suddenly very concerned about the whereabouts of Isaac's hand-me-down winter coats.  Brian, festively adorned with an assortment of toddlers, diapers and tooth brushes, caught me mid-rifle to gently offer his support:  "You know, maybe this is a good time to tear the house apart for those coats.  We might need those tonight."  Aww, what a sweet ma-- now hang on a second -- I think I just got patronized!

I reluctantly gave up my search and found a small set of teeth to brush.  My sweet Brian already had Isaac in some cute little fire truck pajamas.  Ian, still prancing around in his squeaky-clean skin, insisted on having fire trucks too.  I opened the pajama drawer and was immediately transfixed by its disarray.  Brian was solidly into his narration of Tiger Can't Sleep, with Isaac tucked in the crook of his arm and naked Ian balanced precariously on the edge of the bed.  My hunt for more fire trucks segued into a full-blown drawer organization project.  My eyes were crossing, but this was "important."  About the time Tiger was one-man-band-ing, Brian realized I was into "it" again.  "Amy, what are you...?"  "Here they are!  Ian, let's put on your fire trucks"  "O.K., now come to bed....plllease."  "Hang on, I have to put all this back."

Finally, we're all tucked into bed. The last story is read.  Ian and Brian are discussing who will turn off the light.  An idea assaults my groggy brain:  Hey, I should go microwave that squishy little foot warmer thingy...