A parent is a permanent choice. Between bed and time to be in silence. Between the swimming rate for infants and a walk. And sometimes between ethics and their own health. About one of these elections is this column of the mother, which is tired of saving from the garbage bucket of the remnants in the sown's plate.
I was very lucky. I was never forced to eat the last macaronin. Never scared curved husband. Or by the fact that my husband will have a curve wife. Mom simply looked at the dad, and the dad knowingly nodded. I did not go to the kindergarten, and in the school dining room, no one was doing to my food behavior.
However, I do not remember a single dish from our school chef, but I only remember that in one day we for some reason began to throw overdue crushed raws to the ceiling. They stick to the plaster and looked down on us. With reproach.
As a child, we were friends with one family: My friend's parents of Gooli every year in January arranged for children a stunning home tree with contests, ideas. Desserts were also at the height. And once, Goshina Grandma somehow said that well-brought up girls and boys should always leave a small piece of cake on a plate, so as not to be ashamed by the clouds and show that they were not so much hungry. When she agreed on this phrase, almost no one from us on the dessert plate was no longer left, but for some reason I remember this notation for life. Although I do not think that it is ethically acquitted in our time.
When my son was born, I decided that I would not force him to eat, we would not have any spines for mom and for the dad, for the rider and for the peep peppe.
Let the child have healthy food habits! Let him study himself to determine when he is hungry, and when he was already saturated. Let him no one scolds for a tempting crust of bread.
Because I am drought this unloaded crust. And I am drieving three pieces of cucumber, five pieces of orange, yogurt, some incomprehensible crunch worn, which he scored in the store and then rejected, swelling flakes and many, many different things. As a hungry caterpillar Erica Charles, only motivated by not a feeling of hunger, but a sense of duty. After all, throwing food is bad.
Once the famous pianist Svyatoslav Richter was driving a train on tour somewhere in Siberia and ordered her tea. Hot drink brought in a company glass, and next to the saucer lay two pieces of refined sugar. Richter did not add them to tea. When he put an empty glass on the table, the neighbor was jerked for a coupe: "And what did you leave the sugar? He will chase after you later in hell. "
Of course, I do not believe that the thrown food will pursue me on the light, but it hurts the garbage bucket with it today. Even in the summer in the country, when we have a full compost.
Therefore, so far it turns out like this: forming healthy food habits of your child, I pretty often sacrificed with my own.
I eat not only what I want, but also the fact that the will of the case remains on his plate. I eat not only when I'm hungry, but and when I was already very smoked. To predict that it would be in the plate of my child and fully optimize our menu so that the union is not, until it turns out: yesterday he eating boiled eggs with great pleasure, and today the plug-in yolk remained on the saucer. And looks with reproach. Naturally, on me.
This yolk, of course, does not necessarily have to do. I can put it in a small special container and remove it in the refrigerator (as part of our favorite program, "containing not only the child's emotions, but also his union"). Then I can add this yolk into some salad. Let it be one hundred thirty eighth, about which I will need to think about tonight.
I know someone can say: I came up with a problem, the child eats a variety of food, we must rejoice. That was not reel, then there, what is about to worry about this, this is life. If you did not bring thirty extra kilograms at the expense of such a practice, there is no problem in this. I also didn't score them yet, but I know people who exactly for such a "situational fitting" have greatly increased the mass index of their body and spoiled their own health.
If you listen to that nutritionists say on this score, it seems that most of them perform in the genre "Want to be happy - be it."Tired of fade away? So simply do not mercy! Do the servings less (OK, someone, teach me, please cook only one half of the egg). Tell your child, so that he himself threw everything in the bucket, which was not reselved (and herself is better to twist at this moment). Freeze the remnants, welcome in half a year the soup. Out of sight, out of mind. Rejoice. Or belong to patience - sooner or later your son will definitely eats and you will no longer have to eat behind him.
I love my child, motherhood gives me a lot of completely incredible emotions. But today I open my personal register of complaints to parenthood and write down in it a fat black marker:
The thing that strains me, at number 321 - I was tired of the emery of smoke.
They say articulation of the problem - this is the first step towards her decision. Although I honestly spell a specific solution for myself here.
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