Here’s what it’s like to have a toddler. 

Yesterday, we made a plate of food for Ishu in his four compartment, divided plate (learned my lesson the hard way. Duh). 

Chicken in one plate. 

Avocado in the other. 

Cheese and crackers in the third. 

And grapes in the final one. 

He ate a bit on his own and then pushed back his plate, indicated that he was done and then ran into the living room to play with his toys. 

Ankur and I both know that, there are times when he’s not REALLY done when he says he’s done. He just struggles to sit at the table sometimes (this thing I posted a few days ago just embodies everything he is, ha). 

So, Ankur will test out whether the hunger is still there and bring a bite over to him. 

And, lo and behold, he was eating.

Instead of bringing him back to the table, Ankur just offered him bite after bite. Until the last bite of chicken where he said, “All done.” 

So then, HEARING THE WORDS “ALL DONE,” Ankur popped the chicken into his own mouth. 

And then Ishu rushed back over and said, “NO, I WANT IT.” 

To which Ankur responded, “There’s more in the plate! I can get you another piece.” 

And then Ishu fell to the floor. “NO, I WANT THAT ONE.” 

At which point, Ankur walked back over to the plate, PRETENDED TO VOMIT UP THE CHICKEN, and then offered up the “original piece of chicken” to Ishu.

And my child ate what he thought was a vomited up piece of chicken. All in the name of having control.

That is my story.

The end.