The Kitchen is Closed

When my daughter was in third grade, we went out to dinner at the local burger joint along with a neighbor and her third and first grade sons. We each ordered for ourselves and kids and waited at the counter for our trays of burgers and fries to be ready. I remember that the mother had some coaching to do with the first grade son, but didn't think too much about it.

That is, until we sat down in our booth and began unwrapping our burgers. Much to the first grade son's disappointment, the burger he unwrapped was not the child-size one he had ordered. It was the regular size burger with exactly the same condiments and cheese requested. He began to pout loudly and whine to his mother.

My girl and I exchanged glances, uncertain what the problem was because he got what he wanted - just a little bigger. He could eat a little less and be fine. No big deal, right? Wrong. He continued to whimper and his mother continued to coddle him until she appologetically went back to the counter and ordered him a new, smaller burger. She had a big smile that she had pleased her son, and he happily bit into his perfect burger.

I thought she had just taught her sons that they can have whatever they wanted and cringed for their future wives who would have to live up to high expectations.

Over the years I have met many a parent who has catered to her child's eating whims. They have gone so far as to create separate meals in order to get them to eat. As they explain their predicament to me, they shrug as if they are powerless and continue to outline the lengths they have gone to get something edible down the throat of their child.

Perhaps because I was once just such a finicky eater (PBJs every day for a year) I determined not to to bring another such person into the world.

So in my grown-up house, we serve the same dinner to everyone. That is the food available for the meal, period. You can't turn your nose up to what has been prepared and go make macaroni. You can, however, have a bowl of cereal later if you ate dinner and are still hungry. I have encouraged our kids to at least taste something new, and if they really do hate it, we don't force it. After all, I don't like beets, either.

We also got the kids cooking at an early age so they could see what went into a meal. By the time they were in early elementary grades, they would shop with me for the ingredients and work on each step of the meal with some help. There is no magic fairy in our house. The  phrase "the kitchen is closed" was implemented to keep late-nite snackers from messing up or a kid who refused dinner to try and wheedle food out of us later on . Usually we would add the time the kitchen was closed to this pronouncement. We'd say it calmly, brightly adding that "breakfast will be served at 8:00."

A huge influence on my philosophy of meal time magic comes from Dr. Kevin Leman, renowned parenting expert and psychologist for over 30 years. (Check out all his books on Amazon! They are fun reading with practical applications.) In one of his books, he shares this suggestion he gave a mom with a fussy kid who didn't like spaghetti - the rest of the family's favorite meal. Dr. Leman told the mom to make that spaghetti and set the table for everyone except the whiner, then call the family for dinner. They calmly begin serving and eating the meal. The whiner came in the room and wondered why there wasn't a plate for him, and the mom cheerfully told him, "well honey, you don't like spaghetti." The stunned kid wandered over to the kitchen counter, lifted the lid on the sauce pot and said, "well, I could eat this spaghetti." He never complained again. And yes, he even ate spaghetti.

My absolute favorite Dr. Leman story is the one where the whiney eater - sitting at the table - looks at his plate and whimpers that he doesn't like this stuff. The parent cheerfully says ""okay", stands up and takes his plate to the sink where he dumped the entire contents. They calmly return to the dinner table and continue eating. The astonished kid asks what happened. Their cheerful reply, "You said you didn't like it. Breakfast will be at 8:00. You are excused." That kid  never complained again, either. I only had to do this once. It works. The key is you being cool, calm and unruffled.

If you haven't guessed by now, my favorite way of parenting involves reality - not lecturing, not reminding. At first you will have to work at acting calmer than you really are. But very soon, if you are committed and consistent, you will realize you really are.

P.S.  You can modify these ideas for older kids who don't show up on time at the dinner table. Breakfast is at 8:00.

Bon Appetit!