Category Archives: Feeding

“That’s All I Need, Daddy!”

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As I stopped at the gas station this morning, I opened the back door and discovered a collection of toys, stuffed animals, kids’ clothing, baby wipes (new and used), a musical instrument, a video game to a Nintendo 3DS, an instruction packet (to another game I’ve never heard of,) two “sippy” cups (one with old milk….or new cottage cheese,) one sock, a Zooble, and two cars seats filled with “Lexus Trail Mix.” What is “Lexus Trail Mix” you ask? Old Fruit Loops, Corn Pops, raisins, crunchies, gummy bears, and what are either dead grapes or blueberries. (I’m still not sure which.)

It dawned on me that both of my sons have turned into “The Jerk.” When going for a ride in the car, they don’t need anything – except this, that, and the other thing. All it made me think about was this scene:

Everyone’s a Critic

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Either I've been shot or I'm lactating Tomato Sauce!

Either I’ve been shot or I’m lactating Tomato Sauce!

Last Friday was “Spaghetti Night” for the Priluck Boys! GWE was out with friends for the evening, so I decided to cook for the kids.

Justin loved his spaghetti and ate every bite (along with two extra helpings.) Garrett decided that he was not in the mood for “Spaghetti Night.” At first, he made his wishes known by yelling at me. When that failed, he tossed his “sippy cup” onto the floor. And finally, when all other forms of communication failed, he looked me square in the eye…grabbed a handful of sauce…and threw it at me. His aim was good.

Needless to say, I finally got the message. After some extensive clean-up (me, the floor, the highchair, the wall, the ceiling, the stove, my face, and the ‘fridge), I warmed up some chicken fingers for him instead and served it to him while wearing a catcher’s mask.

I Can’t Get My Kids to Take Drugs!

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Is it still considered "Pier Pressure" when it's the parents forcing the drugs on the children???

Is it still considered “Peer Pressure” when it’s the parent forcing the drugs on their own child???

In my house, our kids have taken “Just say ‘no’ to drugs” way too far. While I do appreciate that my 1 1/2 year old son has said, “ARBAGOH-WEE” (translation: “No”) to crack, LSD, heroin, ‘shrooms, and Kitty Tranquilizers. GWE and I have had the hardest time getting Garrett to take his antibiotics!!

Garrett is free and clear of his conjunctivitis now, but getting one medicine into his mouth and another medicine into his eyes almost broke us physically and emotionally. I couldn’t help but feel like I was “Antibiotic Water-Boarding” my own kid.

My first mistake was trying to give him the medicine by myself. The first time I did it, I stood in the parking lot of the pharmacy and attempted to jam medicine into Garrett while he was strapped into his car seat. He knew what was coming and he clamped his mouth and eyes shut. He then screamed bloody murder, punched me a number of times, and cried ALOT. (I can only imagine what other people thought as they walked past us.) We ended up with more medicine on us than inside of him.

GWE pulled into the parking lot 15 minutes later and found us both dazed and bewildered. I was slumped over in the driver’s seat exhausted, sweating, and depressed that Garrett hated me for what I tried to do to him. Garrett continued to kick my seat all the while screaming at me – “DA-DA, DA-DA, DA-DA.”

Luckily, from that point on, GWE and I joined forces in order to get him to take his medicine. I held his hands back (like he was about to receive electroshock therapy) and GWE shoved the syringe into the back of his mouth and squirted. Garrett became the master of hiding his tongue in the back of his mouth and then pushing the medicine forward through his teeth and out his mouth just as GWE removed he syringe. We ended up with medicine everywhere. Thanks to Garrett’s regurgitation technique, these are the following things that won’t get conjunctivitis now: his highchair, my hands, GWE’s hands, the floor, one of my shirts, GWE’s hair, and my rear tire and hubcap (I blame GWE for that one.)

Needless to say, GWE and I are still traumatized.

Does anyone know if it’s illegal to chloroform a child under two in order to get medicine into their body without a fight?

Do you know the Muffin Man?

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MuffinEach culture has their own unique traditions when it comes to showing appreciation for a tasty meal. In America, we leave a tip. In Japan, you can show your appreciation by buying your sushi chef a beer. In Spain, I’ve heard that it’s not uncommon to burp or fart as an act of gratitude for a wonderful meal.

My youngest son has decided to show his appreciation for my cooking in a way that I could never have imagined.

This past Sunday morning, I got up with Garrett. I changed his diaper (washed my hands afterwards) and together we decided to make breakfast for everyone before they woke up. With Garrett’s help, we decided to make blueberry muffins. I grabbed the muffin mix from the pantry along with some oil, milk, and eggs. (Garrett especially liked touching the eggs. He would rub the top of each egg and then laugh hysterically.) Together, we mixed the batter, poured it into the muffin pan, and then placed them in the oven.

Eight and a half minutes later, Justin emerged from his room with “I smell muffins!!” I decided to have some fun with him. “No, Justin…there are no muffins here. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

He looked on the counter – no muffins. He looked on the table – no muffins. He looked on the stove – no muffins. Perplexed, but confident, he stood his ground. “I smell muffins, daddy!” I smiled and opened the stove to show him that they were still baking.

Patiently, he and Garrett waited until the muffins were out of the oven and cooled down. I placed two on Justin’s plate and one on Garrett’s. I gave Justin his plate and he was pleased. I took Garrett’s plate and sat at the table. I decided to tear his apart for him and hand it to him piece by piece.

This is when I witnessed Garrett’s version of “appreciation.” Garrett took the first piece of muffin and put it up to his mouth. He did not eat it. It was a half sniff/brush-against-the-lips. Bravely, he popped the muffin into his mouth. I saw him smile and say “mmmmm.” And then, after a little chewing, he pulled the piece of muffin out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it with his heel (like he was smashing glass at a Jewish wedding.)

I proceeded to hand him three more pieces. And, three more times, he placed them in his mouth – chewed them – pulled the remnants out of his mouth – tossed them on the floor – and, then stomped on them with the heel of his foot.

I’m not sure if I should take it as a bizarre sign of gratitude or an act of gastronomic defiance. I keep wondering, “What would Bourdain do in this situation? I know his agent. Maybe I’ll call him!”