battle of the carrot
If I haven’t said it before, I have the cutest, most amazing children in the world. G has this mind that is always going going going, sometimes so fast that I think she must trip over her own thoughts. She reads voraciously, reminds me of me when I was younger. Cannot keep her in books, and when she slams one shut that she only started that day, I say a silent apology to Mom for putting her in the poorhouse with my reading. (Getting my just rewards, Mom!!!!) We put books on hold at the library, but Gis at that weird tween age where she either has to read too young or I am not ready for the content of too old…
N- he is his own man. Trying to get him over being SOOOO picky, so we had The Battle of the Carrot yesterday. Not even plural ‘carrots’, but singular CARROT. He yelped when he saw carrots on his plate and made such a fuss that I said, “Okay, you are not leaving the table til you eat one carrot.”
A loooong hour and a half later, with me offering prayers to God asking to please not let me break down… I knew if I broke, that Nate’s future held Krispy Kremes and danishes. He ate the measly little carrot with more drama than I knew he was capable of, but he ate it on his own. No mean mama, just firmly telling him he had to stay at the table til he ate a carrot. Afterwards, I told him that it wasn’t so bad, to which he tearfully replied “It was worse than you know
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