Cauliflower tastes like chicken...?

>> Saturday, 12 April 2008

Warning - sentimental outpouring ahead...


Who would have guessed it?

Not long ago - and still now from time to time to be honest - mealtimes chez Potty were a battleground. I've blogged about it before, I won't bore you with examples now.

But this evening we passed a milestone. Boy #1 ate cauliflower.

Not knowingly, you understand. If he were to have willingly picked up a fork and said "Gosh Mama, this cauliflower truly is delicious!" I would have taken out a full page ad in The Times publiscising the fact. So no, we haven't quite come that far. But this evening the Boys and I sat down to chicken in spicy red lentil sauce with a few steamed cauliflower florets thrown in for good measure. And to my quiet astonishment they ate the lot.

Now, I'm not ashamed to admit that this admit that this blog is mainly about the trials and frustrations of being a stay at home mum. And I'm also not ashamed to admit that I may - just occassionally - change the course of events (very slightly) to make better copy or to keep you guys interested (there's blogging, and then there's real life, right?). But what you don't generally find me writing about is the good stuff. The times when I actually feel that I might be doing something right.

For all the times when I want to tear my hair out; when I find myself under the table for the nth time that day sweeping up the debris from yet another disregarded meal; when I find myself sounding like a broken record, channelling a shrill-voiced harridan; when I'm on my hands and knees picking up after them; when the only way to get their attention is to lose my temper intentionally, there are the other times. The times when I can't imagine life without them.

Times when I think back to my life pre-children and wonder if I really was that shallow selfish individual. When they astonish me with the knowledge they've collected from I don't know where. When they astound me with their ability for love, devotion, and forgiveness of the tired, snappy parents they sometimes find themselves with. Times when they make me laugh out loud, and times when their wonder at the world around them forces me to see it through their eyes and realise just how fortunate we are to be living it. Times when I'm sitting there with one or both of them on my lap, or cuddled up with the 4 of us in bed in the morning, when I know that all the choices that have led me to this point were the right ones.

I know that when I look back, I will wish I had taken more photos, shot more video, filed away more keep-sakes, and boxed more memories for the years ahead when they have passed through this demanding but oh so rewarding phase, and are in yet another - different - oh so rewarding but demanding phase.

If I could bottle their hugs and kisses, and the feeling of their arms clasped around my neck, I would. But I can't, so every now and again I may just blog about these things.

But don't worry - normal potty 'I went out to a smart restaurant with bogeys on the back of my black dress' (and yes, that did really happen) service will remain the usual order of the day...

16 comments:

Tracey 13 April 2008 at 03:11  

You've managed to 'bottle' it - encapsulating it all, really. That's what it's all about, this parenting lark, isn't it.

One of the famous dinner "deceptions" in this house was when I called "Shepherds Pie (that #2 didn't like) "Mince Dish". She polished it off, seemingly unaware of #1's sniggering, but has never lived it down to this day. Funnily, she's the one who is actually our best eater.

Carolyn 13 April 2008 at 04:29  

Cauliflower? Are you kidding me? Even if you snuck it into their sweet little mouths under the radar I would still take out the ad. I've had a few baby-step vegetable triumphs around here lately too so I applaud you and bow to your strength and perseverance. Go Potty Mummy Go!

Mya 13 April 2008 at 09:26  

Ahh...that was lovely. You are so right...the rewards heavily outweigh the moments of cauliflower-rebellion-induced mania.

My Sprog eats prune yoghurt...but only because he believes it is chocolate flavour. Mwhahahha!

Mya x

Working mum 13 April 2008 at 10:28  

Great post. I love the idea of bottling. I'm hoping my blog will record some of the small things that are easily forgotten, the tiny things that make you love them even more (if possible). Shame I can't bottle the hugs and kisses!

Potty Mummy 13 April 2008 at 11:22  

'Dinner deceptions'; great expression Tracey. And what parent doesn't use them? 'Of course you've had broccoli before - and you loved it!'

Hi Carolyn, baby steps is what it's all about with Boy #1 and food. I must say though that since Christmas we've had what are - relatively speaking - giant leaps. Thank god. Spaghetti carbonara was beginning to pall, just a little, 5 days a week...

Mya, you are a goddess. How do you DO that? Prune as chocolate? You truly are Uber-Mum...

Thanks WM. And if we could bottle - well, I guess they wouldn't be so sweet. It would still be lovely though. (And a money spinner too - can you imagine?)

jeanie 13 April 2008 at 13:44  

I just came here via Tracey - and found a lovely post that encapsulates why we don't all throw in the dishcloth when the going gets tough. How beautiful.

Potty Mummy 13 April 2008 at 13:59  

Hi Jeanie, thanks for the visit and the comment. Of course, if you read the post before this one, you'll see why we might WANT to throw in the dishcloth in the first place...

Iota 13 April 2008 at 14:51  

Cauliflower? And lentils? Blimey. You must be doing something right. I haven't bought either of those items for, oh, 9 years or so.

As for the rest, we're all allowed those motherhood life-fulfilled moments, you know. Even we stiff upper-lipped Brits.

Watch out, or you might have another baby.

lady thinker 13 April 2008 at 16:29  

Would you like a chatty bloggers award? http://sidmouth-town.blogspot.com/2008/04/chatty-bloggers-award.html

aims 13 April 2008 at 16:52  

Okay girl - you did this so I would have to eat some of my words didn't you?

I am envious of those things. I am and I'm a big enough girl to admit it.

Now - where are my stretchy pants?

Potty Mummy 13 April 2008 at 17:54  

Iota - no chance. (on the baby front, that is). As for the lentils, well, blenders are wonderful things for hiding items of a 'suspicious' consistency, don't you find?

Lady Thinker, why thankyou kindly, I would! And will be over shortly to collect it (though quite why I, a woman of so few words, would get a chatty bloggers award I can't imagine...)

Aims, no I promise that I didn't do it to make you eat your words. But your comment yesteday did make me think about the fact that I so often talk about the rubbish stuff when there really is a lot more to this parenting lark than that. And of course that thought coincided with one of those hormonal moments yesterday evening and produced the perfect storm of a sentimental post. I promise not to make a habit of it.

But please, tell me, why the stretchy pants?

Sweet Irene 14 April 2008 at 03:40  

You should always be able to travel back in time to that moment when they sat in your lap and they smelled of the outside air and you cuddled them and all was well with the world and you knew you would love them forever.

Potty Mummy 14 April 2008 at 12:47  

Irene, I do so hope so.

aims 14 April 2008 at 15:52  

Of course just a play on 'big girl' and eating my words darling - that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

aims 14 April 2008 at 15:53  

If I told you the real reason - you'd be weeping huge alligator tears for me and telling your boys a scary bedtime story based on me....so no...that's not going to happen!

Potty Mummy 14 April 2008 at 16:22  

So now you really have me - and anyone else reading the comments box - wondering. But I won't ask any more Aims - you're entitled your own private life... (!)

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