>Leila is a picky eater. If I am being totally honest, she comes by it naturally. Last night as I listened to her cry and whine like I had taken her birthday away at the prospect of having to eat *one* bite of dinner before she would be allowed to go for ice cream, I realized that my mother’s wish had come true. All of those times she told me that some day I would have a kid just like me…yep.
I made Zucchini cakes. They were tasty, and not to be confused with anything healthy that I may have tried to make my kids eat. Picture cheese, breadcrumbs, eggs and shredded zucchini fried in a skillet. Like I said, not health food. Leila went on and on before finally, in a last second effort to earn a trip to DQ she choked down a single bite. As she stood there chewing as fast as she could, with one hand plugging her nose to avoid the taste, I was thrown back in time. Sitting at our kitchen table in the farm house in Tabor at the table all alone after everyone else had finished dinner, with a plate full of corn that I did not want to eat, or a plate of spaghetti with “gravy” on it.
This evening I was tempted to take a picture, but then I thought better of it when I imagined my own mother posting a picture of my dinnertime drama-fest from a couple of decades ago.
Tonight it was meatloaf. A dish that I have been making for Cory for several years, and he has always raved about. As Leila whined and cried and choked down her one bite, I had to remind myself that most of the time she thinks I am awesome, so I shouldn’t take it too personally that at dinner time she looks at me like I am the evil lunch lady with a ladle full of slop. My daughters are beginning to shake the confidence that I had built up about my cooking abilities.
Motherhood, one day you are on the top of the world from the chants of “Mommy! You are the best!I Love you!” And the next, you are greeted at the dinner table after preparing a thoughtful, wholesome meal with whining, tears and the occasional gag from across the table.