A toddler’s diet, with a side of LA.
Recently, an LA friend posted a plea on Facebook – “Looking for fellow macrobiotic vegans to share recipes with”. Responses poured in, and I watched in amazement, only one thought running through my mind – man, I feel bad for that girl. You see, my Eastern European upbringing has regaled me to a life of meat, potatoes, desserts, and wine. In no particular order, though dessert often comes first.
And it appears my palate has already had a profound influence on Little D. Yes, we try to decorate her plate with greens and she actually does eat them from time to time – sometimes I swear she has already eaten more vegetables in two years of life than I have in 32, but that’s probably not something to boast about – but when the dinner bell rings at our place, it’s usually followed by a request for pasta, pasta, rice and/or pasta.
I am trying to broaden her horizons. I read all the articles on how to avoid raising a picky eater. I buy the new vegetables and try to play along when they say it will take a toddler an average of 13 times to enjoy something new (though I call BS after attempt number three). I got the Jessica Seinfeld kids’ cookbook (though, admittedly, for free from a friend – autographed, to boot! – and still never been opened). I strive for a squash-eating, broccoli-crunching household – heck, I would even be thrilled if she liked a red pepper. But still my girl opts for the good stuff – bowtie with butter, pesto tortellini, mac and cheese (organic, of course).
The real kicker? She can. From birth, she has been a long, lean specimen of fast metabolism, thanks to her dad. But in case she doesn’t keep up the skinny girl thing forever, I don’t want her getting too used to a life of indulgence, sweets, and carbs. This is LA, after all. She will be a social outcast by the time she hits pre-K.