Beef in the bowl is worth 2 in the hand
I would like to argue that the crockpot might be the single most amazing invention ever. You throw some random things in a pot, turn it on, and… 8 hours later you have a meal. Also, only one pot to clean.
So, this morning, soon after we finished our blueberry pancakes, I threw a roast, some potatoes and carrots and other random things into a pot, turned it on and announced, “Dinner is done!” I then strutted around the rest of the day, playing with kids, going for a run, playing with kids, getting our Christmas tree, hiding from kids, doing some laundry, playing with kids and watching some football.
Finally, it was time for dinner. I sliced some beef and cubed it for the kids. I threw it into a bowl with broth and carrots and potatoes. We placed it in front of the kids and TheMonk, after taking a look at the culinary masterpiece in front of him, promptly announced, “I’m not hungry!” In case we hadn’t heard the first time, he announced it several more times. “I’m not hungry!”
Swee’Pea, on the other hand, after announcing she wasn’t crazy about potatoes, ate just about everything anyway. She’s a veteran eater who’s savvy enough to know that the quicker you eat the dinner, the quicker you get dessert. She finished right around the same time that TheMonk, realizing brownies were for dessert, decided that maybe he’d give the dinner a try after all. He ate a few carrots and a few bites of beef and then asked if he could be done. We explained he had to eat the last two cubes of beef in his bowl and then he could be done.
So, a few seconds later, I watched as he casually scooped both cubes of beef out of the bowl with his bare had and held them clenched in his chubby little fingers. “I’m done.” he announced.
Um, no. As I explained to him that he had to eat the beef now in his hand, I also explained that it was not okay to lie. He knew he had been busted and his big brown eyes started to well up with tears. He’s a sensitive little guy who hates to let us down and he knew he let us down. But guilt alone didn’t push him over the edge.
Not until his mother said, “I think he should only get half a dessert.” (Meanwhile, his sister, seemingly oblivious to the drama taking place, is happily chowing down on her brownie.) This news from Mommy is more than he can bear.
And he begins to cry. Loudly. Tears stream down his chubby cheeks as he mourns the loss of his parents trust and half a brownie. My heart breaks for him but I know he has to learn this lesson.
Finally, he calms down enough to begin eating his tiny brownie. I come over and remind him that I love him and rub his back while giving his tear-stained cheek a soft kiss. I also remind him that I don’t want him to lie to me again. He rubs his hair against my face and I know he feels badly.
I kiss him again and walk away to let him finish his brownie. And I wonder how this parenting thing keeps getting harder.
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I have to say, when I saw the title… I was like… “I don’t know if I want to read about the meat in his hands.” Needless to say, I’m relieved about the actual subject matter. I know you want to teach him to not be deceitful, and of course that is important, but damn it if I don’t just love some of the things kids try to get away with. LOVE it.
Comment by Kellee — December 7, 2009 @ 8:47 am
Now, first things first: I LOVE my crockpot. I brought it over from the US and haven’t been able to use it until now because the converter was busted and we had to wait until the new fuses arrived. I have been missing my beloved crockpot.
That said: parenting is such a weird thing. It gets harder and easier at the same time as time goes by. You learn to master old challenges, but have new challenges to face. And it’s lovely and scary at the same time to feel you have to power, through your actions and the example you set, to shape another person. Or two
Comment by Elisa — December 7, 2009 @ 8:58 am
I realize this is a tangent, but that’s exactly what we had for dinner, too.
Comment by Busy Mom — December 7, 2009 @ 9:19 am
Classis. We experience something similar with our 4 year old boy/girl twins almost every night Last night my son announced he didn’t like what I made for dinner before he even looked in the pot!
Comment by Erica — December 7, 2009 @ 11:26 am
As we continually tell Ane, “That is dinner. There is nothing else. Eating your dinner is up to you, and you can choose not to. However, Mommy and Daddy can also choose to not give you dessert.”
It’s amazing how often she chooses not to eat. But we caught her once dropping peas slowly on the floor to make it appear that she’d eaten them. It might have worked… if we had a dog and it would’ve eaten the evidence. Busted.
Comment by Deanna — December 7, 2009 @ 5:30 pm
You have hearts of cast iron!
Comment by Grandmother — December 7, 2009 @ 7:40 pm
Awwww. It ain’t easy being the parent, that’s for sure. I can SO identify with this – I have a 4 year daughter – that it actually made me have that sick feeling in the stomach that I get when I have to do the tough parenting thing. You know the one…the one you don’t want to do but you HAVE to do that makes your baby cry.
Comment by Kate — December 7, 2009 @ 10:36 pm
Hear, hear for crockpots.
Comment by Jack — December 9, 2009 @ 11:15 am
If it were my house, the beef would have made a trajectory for my head as soon as it hit the table. My 2.5 YO has a great arm and apparently I am not that good of a cook.
Comment by Nancy — December 9, 2009 @ 1:39 pm
I think parenting is harder than I ever (ever) imagined it would be. I was *such* a good parent before I had kids. I had all the answers!
Oh, and I’ve got my spaghetti sauce in the crock pot right now!
Comment by Andrea's Sweet Life — December 9, 2009 @ 2:40 pm