When I approached the task of getting my kids to eat healthy, I was pretty calm about the whole thing. I had a plan: I’d let Michelle handle it.
It made the most sense. Michelle is a very balanced cook and eats a wide variety of foods. She is very detail-oriented, and tracks what everyone ate every day, so she would know who-should-eat-what-when.
Yep, I was looking forward to watching her do a masterful job all by herself.
Now, just so I’m clear, I was quite happy to feed the kids when they were babies. Michelle and I shared this load together once each kid moved to the bottle, then to eating banana mush etc. Once we reached cooked food, however, I went on auto-pilot. I let Michelle call the shots on what they should eat, what was important to be firm about and what we could be flexible with, and executed her orders as given. She was happy with this arrangement as well – we both knew that I was clueless when it came to structuring a diet, and this way she could know that the kids were eating in a balanced manner.
The problems started – don’t they all? – when the kids began to actually have an opinion about what to eat. Michelle entered this whole “parenting” thing with the belief that if you feed kids a variety of foods when they are very young, it will open them up to all the tastes in the world, and they will find everything appealing. I guess this approach has merit and helps some, but the moment when the cry “yuck!” sounds at the table comes to us all.
It was when Ray, our eldest, began to object to eating certain foods that my tension-radar started sending my brain warning signals. I could see Michelle, who was diligently working hard at providing an optimal, healthy menu for Ray, getting frustrated with his resistance.
The challenge had another dimension to it. Ray has Sensory Integration Disorder (SID), a condition which, in his case, means he is extra sensitive to certain types of tastes and textures of food. He would react very strongly, even as a toddler, when forced to eat simple things like cooked carrot.
I knew Michelle was right to insist that Ray eat well, but I also knew that a head-on collision on this topic was not a productive approach. How did I know? Let me tell you a story about the birth of PotatoLad.
PotatoLad to the Rescue
As a kid I hated eating potatoes. If they came in the form of crisps or French Fries, that was great, but almost any other form they took was unpalatable to me. The worst form of all, by the way, was mashed potatoes. I know that some people love the stuff, so I’ve probably alienated half my readership here, but it’s the truth: I could not stand it.
My parents tried to convince me to eat potatoes many times. When convincing didn’t work, they tried a creative approach, which was designed to make eating potatoes fun and funny.
One meal (I was probably six years old or so), when my mother was serving potatoes, a shadowy voice emerged from the hallway of our 5-room apartment. “Ooooohhhhh,” the voice cried, “I am PotatoLad, and I’ve come to see who is eating his potatoes!” I leaned to the side and watched as a figure ambled out of the hallway. It was tall, and covered with long robe from head to toe (at other times, it would wear a brown sheet). A quick glance to my left revealed that my father had suspiciously disappeared from the table moments before. I was young, and prone to imaginative fancy, but even I could put two and two together.
PotatoLad continued approaching, closing in on me. “Ooohhh! I see you have some yummy potatoes on your plate! You must eat them, so that you get strong, and that will give me the power to protect the world!” [This is a really fun memory I have from my childhood – thanks Dad!]
This went on for a few minutes, with me laughing and trying to uncover the secret identity of PotatoLad from under the sheet, and him encouraging me to eat my potatoes. It was a great game we played, and would be a cool technique to bring into my own family as a parent, if not for one drawback: it didn’t really solve the issue.
Sure, I ate my potatoes less reluctantly when PotatoLad was around. I’ll admit as much. But for the most part it did not stop me from fighting with my parents (or PotatoLad, whichever was around). And when I would continue to insist that I don’t want to eat them, I was eventually forced to do so, despite how much I was revolted by how they felt in my mouth, my throat, my stomach. Once or twice, I even forced myself to throw-up because I was so disgusted. Those events did not end well for any of us.
Also, I guess it meant lots of work from my parents. I love playing games to make things fun for my kids as much as the next time. But to have to do it every time stops being fun.
And finally, to this day, I dislike potatoes, and the sight of mashed potatoes makes me uncomfortable.
Dessert Carrot
So, seeing my kids resist eating certain foods, I was quickly reminded of my own childhood experiences. Michelle was an obedient child when it came to table etiquette and to food variety, so she did not know how taking the direct force-feed approach can end with nothing to show for it. I, on the other hand, was determined to make sure my kids did not carry the same scars as I did.
Looking at the problem, I realized the main thing we wanted to avoid was that point in which you force the kid to eat something they don’t want. If that’s what would happen, it would backfire on us and the kids: they would perceive these foods as something bad that they never wanted, and would rebel against it at some point in their lives. Since my whole point was to ensure that they ate well in the long term, that dynamic was best avoided if possible.
What we needed was an incentive, a reason for the kids to choose to eat the food even if they didn’t like it. Michelle and I talked about this a bit, and she said she cared mainly about two things: that the kids ate a balance of carbs/protein/vegetables, and that they tried new things when she made them (did I mention Michelle is a Variety Freak?)
And so, after some thought, we adopted the approach I’ll call here the “Dessert Carrot”, because we use dessert as a carrot instead of punishments as a stick. Basically, we told the kids that
Rule 1: They don’t have to eat anything they don’t want, as long as they eat some carbs and some protein.
Rule 2: If they want to get dessert (the “carrot”) they need to (a) try a new food Michelle made, if there is any, and (b) have some vegetables.
That was it, nice and simple.
Success!
The approach has worked great ever since. Let me review what I like about it.
First of all, there are hardly any fights about what they eat at the table. It’s quite impossible to have a situation when a kid will not have any carb or any protein. Worst case, they have some bread and a can of tuna or a yogurt, if they really want to slum it instead of eating the warm delicious food Michelle makes. And this this is the only bar we insist they meet, we almost never argue about this topic anymore.
(I admit that there are times that the kids will complain about the rules themselves. However, I find that these arguments are less intense than trying to force them to eat.)
For Ray, especially, this was good. He was able to decide for himself what was more important, and if the discomfort he felt was too much for him to bear or just annoying. This relieved so much tension in our dinner interaction with him, it was a real help.
Next, the dessert “carrot” is very effective in motivating the kids to try new stuff and eat their veggies. The prospect of watching everyone else wolf down a chocolate brownie is usually enough to help them collect the courage to taste stuff they don’t think they will like. Even in the cases where they chose not to have dessert at first, when they actually saw people eating it at the end of the meal, they suddenly remembered they wanted to try those unappealing Brussel Sprouts. Nine times out of ten, the meal ends with everyone eating dessert.
Sure, there is that one-out-of-ten time that they don’t eat like we want them to. But the way we think about it, that’s not such a terrible price to pay. As a parent I’m here to play the strategic game, not be distracted by tactical losses. If I win the war – meaning, if my kids grow up to eat healthy and flexibly – I don’t mind losing a few battles along the way.
Finally, an added bonus here is that it handles cases when the kid says “I’m not hungry” or “I’m full”. “You’re full, eh?” I say with a wry smile, “well, I guess you won’t have any room for dessert as well, if you’re really that stuffed”. Somehow, after this response, they discover new areas in their tummy for a few spoons of fresh onion soup.
Some last thoughts
So, go ahead and try it out if it sounds good. After fifteen years of doing this, I can tell you that our kids, including Ray, are very versatile eaters. They each have their likes and dislikes – who doesn’t? – but they are relatively flexible when it comes to trying new stuff.
You might be wondering if there is a deeper underlying guide to this solution, and I’m happy to say that there is. Giving kids a choice between two (or more) options helps release lots of pressure, even when neither of the two choices are fun.
I’m not sure exactly why that is – perhaps it’s about needing freedom, or perhaps it forces our brain to engage in the pros and cons of things and see the good alongside the annoying. But either way, it’s extremely helpful, and we’ve used this principle in other areas as well – as I’m sure you’ll hear about if you follow this blog into the future!
Till next time…
GoodEnoughParenting 