winning the vegetable war

Milo had to be about Liam's age when he categorically refused to eat anything of color. We call it the "White Menu Phase." Turkey, chicken, rice, mashed potatoes, pears and apples were about the only things he would eat.

Liam has had his own phases. One included only eating round things - peas, blueberries, KIX cereal and cheese balls. But recently, Liam has begun to expel certain foods. He puts them in his mouth, chews them, then spits them into his hand and hands the whole mess to you. He'll then put more of the item in his mouth and repeat the process. You have to admire his optimism that the next bite may be better than the previous twelve. 

We had a bit of an advantage with Milo because he was talking (and very well I might add) which meant we could negotiate. "Eat two carrots and after dinner you can have ice cream," (vanilla of course). Slowly and painfully, his pallete expanded. But since Liam isn't as advanced verbally, we had to resort to more creative methods.

We had a big break through after discovering Jerry Seinfeld's wife's cookbook, "Deceptively Delicious." Her whole system of blending vegetables into foods kids eat is a bit too elaborate for me (seriously, who wants to spend a day each week pureeing egg plant and squash). So I took the basic principles of it and modified them. For starters, I decided to skip the blending and pureeing and freezing steps, and went for the frozen equivalents in the grocer's freezer isle. For initial test, I thought I'd try frozen, pureed squash and chopped spinach. 

To see if this whole approach was worth it, I decided to make Sneaky Mac & Cheese. And even without pureeing my own fresh squash, it was a giant success. My oldest noticed a difference but said it wasn't bad. And to be honest, I hate squash but found when blended in, it's not so bad.  

To make Mac N Cheese Supree (that's French for surprise), the first thing to do is, buy a different brand of Mac & Cheese. Jerry's wife says to leave the box visible when serving it so if there's a noticeable difference in taste it will be attributed to the new brand. Next, cut a frozen 12 oz package of squash in half or thirds (a good serrated knife works fine). Make Mac & Cheese as instructed. Nuke the frozen squash for a min or two 'til mostly thawed while pasta boils. Add the squash when you add the milk, butter and cheese powder. Viola'!

Spinach has a few more options. I add half a frozen package to spaghetti and lasagna. And I slice a half inch off the frozen block and sprinkle on frozen pizzas or breakfast items like omelets and messes. A mess is much like a skillet breakfast but its recipe varies depending on what leftovers you have in the fridge that can plausibly pass for breakfast ingredients. Basically scrambled eggs, potatoes, said spinach, salami (MmmMmm salami), cheese and whatever else you feel like.

These few recipes have eliminated a lot of stress (and mess) from our family meal time. Hope they help with your picky eaters.

Making Tiger Woods

When it comes to baseball, Milo has some mad skills. He's textbook perfect when fielding grounders and fly balls. Makes the across the body catches look easy. He bats left for power and right for average. And he's not even 8 years old.

The moment that fueled this passion for America's game - The Minnesota Twins '06 season. He was approaching his 5th birthday and our home town 9 were way back in the pennant race. Like so far back they were pretty much written out of the postseason half way through the regular season. Despite all odds, they made a monumental comeback and won the Central Division that year.

But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves... So it's nearing the end of the regular season. The Twins have come back from like 12.5 games back and are contending for the division title. I'm totally riveted to the drama. Memories of the '87 and '91 World Series flashed in my head.

Milo had no idea any this was going on. All he wanted was my attention. We'd color or do puzzles or play dinosaurs but always within sight of the game. In the middle of said play, there would be some spectacular play and I'd cheer. Uhm, that's a bit of an understatement. Yeah, I cheered the kind of cheer that would make you say you didn't know me.

Anyway, I have this theory that in order to get my attentionhe decided he was going to have to be a professional baseball player. My theory stems from my own experience with my father.

My father's passion for golf is what inspired me to go into advertising. When he wasn't on the course, he was watching it on TV. Watching golf is not like watching baseball. It's more of a quiet sport, so even watching it is more quiet. Dad was in the zone when he was watching golf. The only signs of life came during commercials. He'd laugh at a beer commercial. I'm no psychologist but I'm pretty sure I made a career choice from a desire to make dad laugh.

When I asked Milo what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said not surprisingly, he wanted to be a Minnesota Twin. For his 6th birthday, I got him a glove. A nice, soft Wilson A200. Every night after dinner, weather permitting, he and I would play catch in the backyard til the sun went down. He loves to catch pop flies so I would tell him, "I'll throw sky-high pop flies all night after you catch 10 (insert catch here. ex. cross-over catches)." Obviously, it worked.

I don't know if this adds more validity to my theory, only time will tell, but when Milo and I were playing catch, baby Liam would be inside pounding on the sliding glass door vying for my attention. Not that unusual I suppose, but here's where even Rod Serling would be a little freaked out. Liam's first word was "ball."

do do do do, do do do do, do do do do, do do do do ( <--that's Twilight Zone theme music)

Like father like son.

I'm four years old or so and having a serious conversation with my parents. Dad is visibly upset. The subject matter seems eerily familiar.

Mom asks, "Where do we draw?"

I'm dumbfounded. "Wow, if she doesn't know the answer, my future is in serious jeopardy."

Thankfully, she answers her own question, "On paper."

I nod in agreement. "Oh yeah.. paper," I think to myself.

We had had this conversation before, but ususally it occurred in front of a wall. Naturally, I was a bit confused. I mean, technically I hadn't been drawing. I was carving. Tic Tac Toe in my dad's dresser. And despite my best efforts, all the games ended in a tie.

I was too young to be punished. But I remember feeling bad. Or maybe it was that the whole ordeal was told over and over to everyone. Grandmas, aunts and uncles all heard what I had done. I heard mom tell every detail over the phone.

Years later, had to be somewhere in my early teens, I had committed another offense of some sort. This time dad was there to discipline. To be honest, I forget what I actually did, but I remember his words vividly. Probably because he was laughing.

He had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Totally not the typical reaction to an obvious infraction.

"One day, you'll have kids" he said, "and they will put you through so much more than you're putting me through right now."

A few decades later, those words would ring all too true.

It's Halloween night. As usual, we're hosting a small gathering. My wife has to work late so dinner, the kids and all the decorations are my responsibility. My first born is old enough to carve his first pumpkin. We draw a simple design on the gourd of his choice. To keep the markers away from the baby, I tuck the markers in my back pocket.

There's a lot to do, so for dinner, I decide to have pizza from a take 'n bake. My youngest, discouraged that he can't carve his own jacko-lantern wanders into the living room and throws a fit. My oldest is progressing nicely with his carving and then we hear a loud crash.

The baby had managed to pull the stereo off the shelf. I don't know how he did it but thanfully, he managed to not get hurt. While I'm putting the stereo back on the shelf, the oven timer goes off. I've got stereo parts in each hand and dinner is about to burn to a crisp. I get the stereo back on the shelf, rush to the oven, pull the pie out and cut it immediately.

That's when I realize the quiet. It's the loudest quiet I've ever heard. You have to be a parent to understand this quiet. It's an ominous quiet. Like you're in dream. Or like in movies where there's some heavy handed foreshadowing.

I walk out to the living room and there's my baby, next to my wife's favorite chair. Seems innocent enough, then it hits me like a meteor. He is drawing on my wife's favorite chair!

In the time it took me to remove a pizza from the oven and cut it, he had managed to tag every visible surface of the chair. But where'd he get a permanent marker? We're normally so careful about keeping them locked up... I reach into my back pocket and realize I had been pick pocketed by an 18 month old! It must have happened while I was putting the stereo back together.

I should be mad, but I'm not. I'm laughing the deepest, belly laugh -the kind of laugh that brings a smile across your face, warms your heart and makes you cry.

That day, dad's words rang too true not to laugh.

We still have the chair prominently displayed in our living room. And my youngest points at his contributions to the chair now and again, smiling proudly. I smile right back at him all the while knowing one day, when he has kids of his own, Karma will likely have him in histarics.