Oh, karma. It really is a "B-word." A HUGE "B-word." So much so that the past few days I have been inclined to write this apology letter to my mother. Trust me when I say she really deserves it. We have began to enforce the "you will eat what is cooked" rule at our house. Our son is beyond picky, and now that he is able to fully communicate his reasons, we are doing our best to help him experience foods outside of casings full of internals and powdered "cheese" on noodles. Hotdogs and easy-mac have been his staples for too long and it is time to enforce new and better choices to him.
I would love to say this pickiness is a fluke of nature. I would really love to say it comes from his dad. I mean, my husband won't even eat a piece of lettuce, his pickiness HAS to come from him, right? Wrong. Cue karma. That's right, the pickiness I am fighting in him is the same pickiness my mom fought in me. Mom, I am sorry. I feel inclined to apologize for my actions 20+ years ago when you were trying to get me to just chew and swallow that bite. I apologize because this is the same exact shit I put my mom through as a child. As I sat there wondering if my child was going to cry or throw up after putting less that a centimeter sized piece of orange chicken in his mouth, I couldn't help but think that my mom probably felt the same thing about me as a child.
Although I am sure our son is a hair pickier than even I was as a child, I can see all of my mom's frustrations manifesting in me. Like how he just sits there and holds it in his mouth instead of just swallowing and getting it over with, or how he fibs about swallowing. or the frustration that my child would rather starve himself than eat a dang vegetable. Eating is just the worst in this house, and I am sure my mom felt the same way about me. I guess you could say I have come full circle. This is a trait my son could have passed on inheriting, but I am a firm believer that God wanted me to understand first hand what I put my mom though, because beside that little quirk, I was relatively a good kid. I was even pleasant (mostly) in my teen years (I think...mom may have other opinions!). So I am hoping that we will have the same luck with our son. I keep myself in the blissful that our daughter will love all foods! Only time will tell...
So, mom, I am sorry. I am sorry for all the frustrations of feeding me. All the times you probably wanted to slap me and refrained over dinner, the times I cried, annoyed you by holding food in my mouth for days, wondered if I was going to cry or puke on your table, or drove you to secret tears during the dishes wondering if your child was going to starve and if you really should just let him have some milk or a snack you swore wouldn't happen unless he tasted one minute piece of orange chicken...I am sorry if you felt what I am feeling, and you probably did. Karma has your back, mom, it really does this time. Oh, and along with I'm sorry, as always, I love you!
