Pardon a personal story that I need to remember next time I’m sitting at the table waiting for a child to finish something they don’t want to.

Within the last month, Sophia has made it clear that she does not like white rice. Unfortunately for her, she still has to eat it. Unfortunately for us, we have to help her eat it.

I promise: the last three times we’ve eaten white rice, I’ve given her a purposefully small portion. That didn’t seem to matter, however, while the centuries went by as she ate it.

You have to understand, when you’re sitting at the table, wishing like never before that you hadn’t said they had to eat it, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It’s frustration for all parties involved. You just end up questioning why you have decided that it is important for a four year-old to eat all the food given to her on her plate.

Well, white rice night rolled around again; and I again dished out a small portion to Sophia. Unexpectedly during dinner, she began making excited noises and pointing to her plate with her fork. I didn’t get it, so when she had swallowed her food she exclaimed, “I just took a bite of rice!” (possibly the first time she’s ever waited to swallow her food before speaking) = )

She continued to eat all of her white rice before anything else on her plate!

At this point, I have to postpone the celebration and interject that Paul is the one that taught them this. He always works his way from least favorite to favorite on his plate; unlike me, who gobbles up the meat and carbs and then pushes my vegetables around until I realize there are small people watching me. He’s talked with them many times about how it’s better to eat your least favorite thing first, but this was the first time any of them had tried it -willingly!

There were cheers and hoorays and praises all around. Finally, something had sunk in!

Now, as I said with Mckayla and holding Mommy’s hand, this doesn’t mean anything for next time.

But I want to remember it next time I’m growing old at the table.