StevenLaura

Yes, that’s right, dear bro. This is a picture of your two youngest, chomping away at a bag of broccoli as if it were a bag of chips.

Tonight "Thing 2" began dinner announcing to us, among other things, that she did NOT like broccoli.

So, how did the miraculous change pictured above come to pass? I’m not quite sure. Short answer: Steve.

At dinner, knowing Steve’s philosophy on food, I told Thing 2 that she had to TRY at least ONE PIECE (it could be small) of the broccoli. I then told her that, even though I didn’t like broccoli either (the truth), I DID think it was tasty raw and dipped it in ranch dressing (also the truth). She assured me that she’d already tried it that way, and that she DIDN’T like it. So, after she swallowed the smallest allowable piece of broccoli, (she said she pretended it was chicken, and that helped) she moved on to her hot dog and we moved on, period. No more discussion, except that Thing 3 told us how much SHE really liked broccoli dipped in ranch dressing. YEAH! Some good was done here tonight.

Then bath time hit. As I bathed the two youngest, the oldest munched on a huge muffin she had won at the library earlier that day. Thing 2 approached Uncle S and said, "I’m hungry, I need a snack." Uncle S, not noticing Thing 1's muffin, thought that this was a ridiculous statement, especially given that they had JUST eatten. He conferred with me, and we settled on broccoli as an appropriate snack. She declined it. He figured out then that it was Thing 1’s delicious prize (now almost gone) that Thing 2 was after. Her attempts to win food by expressing her deep need of it and how she wouldn’t last until morning without a snack, and she knew 'cuz she never did, and how she always, always got a snack before bed when mom and dad were around... didn’t work. You don’t try emotional manipulation on a cold-hearted economist, even if he is your loving uncle. Case closed, we were going to put our niece to bed "STARVING."

Thing 3 & E got out of the bath, Thing 1 got in. Thing 3 asked for a snack. Since we’d set the precedent already, Thing 3 was offered broccoli and ranch dressing. She lunged at the idea, "YEAH!!!" After a few minutes of snacking, Thing 2 came in and started discussing broccoli with Uncle S, explaining how it looked like trees, etc. She started digging through the bag of broccoli to demonstrate. Uncle S warned that she shouldn’t do that, and if she touched the food, she had to eat it. Three minutes later, her hand was back in the bag. "This is your last warning" said weakening Uncle S, "you can’t play with other people’s food."

"Last warning?! You already gave her a warning. 'Thing 2,’ you must eat that piece of broccoli," I responded from the sink.

Thing 2 said that she would, but couldn’t she skip eating the top, because she didn’t really like that part as much as the stem. We said no, but I encouraged her to dunk it in dressing if she wanted to make it tastier. S told her that he liked to try to savor the good in foods he didn’t think he’d like, that that helped him learn to appreciate them.

And then the miracle happened. I’m not sure what EXACTLY transpired over the next few minutes, but next thing I know, Thing 2 and Thing 3 were happily munching away at their veggies, going in for more as soon as their fingers are emptied. Thing 2 was EVEN eating the tops. They continued to much for ten minutes or more. Thing 2 has decided she likes broccoli, but only if in this dressing, and only if prepared in this fashion. (She made sure to make that clear.)

I’ve decided today that parenting is complicated. I've also decided that this is a moment I will store away and cherish. The day a miracle occured on 4th street.