and I should enjoy it. Before I can blink, she’ll be 6, then 10, then 25, then… i can’t even think about it!
After yet ANOTHER night of power struggles, angry words, punishments and overall aggravation over dinner, I am reevaluating my plan of attack. See, here is my problem. I’m viewing this dinner ISSUE as something I must attack. Well, the dinner I make is for my child, one of the people I love most in the world, not for my enemy, for the love of pete. So attacking it is probably the wrong way of thinking.
Eva is the world’s SLOWEST eater. Yes, Sam, she may even have Ivy beat. She automatically finds something wrong with her dinner every night, takes forever to eat it, nibbling off itty bitty bird bites at a time, then alternately chewing and storing them in her cheek like a hamster, all the while fidgeting, talking, going to the bathroom, asking a million questions and essentially turning dinner in the Mac household into a marathon that sucks the ENTIRE evening dry. Interspersed are complaints of tiredness, questions about what privilege she will lose if she doesn’t eat, temper tantrums if we try to make her eat and questions about why Charley always finishes first. BECAUSE she ACTUALLY EATS HER FOOD.
So, here’s my plan. My child will not starve. I will serve her dinner and give her 25 minutes to eat it. IF she finishes, great. IF NOT, fine too. She won’t get any snacks or such later on. 25 minutes. I will not nag, I will not help, I will not yell, I will not bribe. 25 minutes. That’s it. Because I want to enjoy 5. and 6 and 1o and 25.
You heard it here. I wrote it so I can’t change my mind.
and here is what i want to say to my daughters every night for the rest of their lives.

‘ “The LORD bless you and keep you;

the LORD make his face shine upon you
and be gracious to you;

the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace.” ‘

I have my peace. My family.
Talk about lucky.
Tiff