I didn’t throw a plate during dinner. But here’s what did happen.
I was giving my 4 year old dinner, and, as usual, she wasn’t eating well. We have spent a lot of time in my household talking about the “dinner rules” and mostly they’re very effective.
The dinner rules are: we sit. and we eat. That’s it.
But, lately, we’ve been needing a reset for my daughter. Because though she can sit (sometimes) she’s lost her way when it comes to eating.
Last night, my husband and I were reflecting on what’s been working and what wasn’t. That night, she wasn’t eating. He looked at me and asked “what do we do now?”
(I’ll take this moment to say– Yes, my job is to help parents make dinner time – and breakfast and bedtime and getting out of the house – smoother. But, I am also just a mom, and not always the expert. Sometimes I know exactly what to do and want my husband and everyone else to just listen to me and do what I say. And sometimes I just want to collaborate and not be the expert. And I mostly just want him to know when I’m feeling each way and act accordingly! Is that too much to ask... 😝)
I said to him “I know we’ve been giving her consequences, but I notice that we can’t punish our way into her eating. The only times she eats are when we make it fun.”
Five minutes later, I was watching her play around with her food, not putting ONE BITE of the chicken, the rice, the broccoli in her mouth… and I lost it.
I started yelling at her.
“Put this food in your mouth RIGHT NOW!”
“Take a bite or there will be NO BOOKS BEFORE BEDTIME!”
And, the clincher “Do you know what would have happened if I didn’t eat my dinner when I was your age!?!?!?”
Just as I said that, my whole childhood whooshed through my head. When I was a kid, raised by two (caring, providing, thoughtful, family-oriented) parents who yelled a lot.
In our house, it was NOT OKAY for me not to eat dinner.
If I didn’t eat dinner at dinner time, I was sent to the laundry room for (what felt like) hours. Then, they put dinner into the fridge and it came out for breakfast.
If I didn’t eat it for breakfast, it showed up again at the following dinner time.
My parents were trying to instill discipline. There were starving children elsewhere in the world. I needed to appreciate what I had.
One particularly bad night growing up, everything escalated. Maybe I yelled back at my dad, maybe my parents both had a bad day at their demanding jobs.
Whatever it was, my dad was so upset that we weren’t eating that he threw a plate across the room and it shattered on the wall, landing in a heap on the floor. My three sisters and I all finished our dinner after that.
Anyway, all of this was coming back to me when my daughter wasn’t eating.
My internal monologue was something like:
Oh my God. I am raising a brat. How does she not listen to me when I speak? I would NEVER have been able to get away with this when I was her age! My parents yelled and I freaking LISTENED!
This kid isn’t even scared of my yelling! I need to be scarier! I need to be stricter! SHE CAN’T GET AWAY WITH THIS! I need to THROW A PLATE ACROSS THIS ROOM TO SHOW HER I MEAN BUSINESS! She is TOO SOFT! This is NOT OKAY!
My husband looked at me. He didn’t grow up in a yelling house.
He doesn’t think yelling is effective, and he definitely doesn’t have a temper like I sometimes have.
He just said simply “Um. 5 minutes ago you were saying that the only way she eats is when we make it fun. Why don’t you try that.”
And at the same moment, my daughter looked up at me with her big blue eyes and said “Can we play unicorn fork instead of you being mad?” (Ah, the simplicity of being 4.)
I looked at my husband. I looked at my daughter.
And instead of throwing a plate, I started singing.
I sang, at first angrily and too loud.
Then, after some laughs a bit softer “Eat your FOOD because I’m in a MOOD and this food must be CHEWED!” and I pretended she was a unicorn.
I said “hello little unicorn, here’s your unicorn food!” and she ate the food. She ate 2/3rds of her plate that night.
Here’s what I am reminding myself, that I’ll remind you too:
– If your parents yelled at you and it caused you to listen, it also wreaked havoc on your nervous system. How lucky are we to have kids that don’t respond well to listen because that fear hasn’t been instilled in them.
– If my dad had seen this scene, he’d think I was being too soft. And, according to old norms, I probably was. But, I like softness. It keeps my family close.
– I’m lucky to have a husband who can call me out when I get escalated.
– Just because i’m playing unicorn to get my daughter to eat now doesn’t mean she’ll need that when she’s 17. Whatever it takes to get her to eat and have her nervous system feel good.
In the Raising Resilient Kids class, we talk about legacy values vs our values.
My value is safety in my family, and healthy food being eaten. My legacy values is that kids should listen no matter what, and if I am playful it will teach my kids to be too soft.
I am working daily to listen to myself and not the echo of the values I no longer believe in.
I wanted to share this because it is part of the work we’re all doing. We’re all parenting differently than our parents did. We are all vacillating between discipline for discipline’s sake and actually getting things done.
And in Raising Resilient Kids, we deal with all of our legacy values, that leftover feeling of someone else watching and judging your parenting– while making dinnertime smoother (mostly. not all the time.)
The Raising Resilient Kids program is opening! The first spots will go to the folks on the waitlist, but if you think this program could be supportive of you and your family, I encourage you to book a clarity call with me soon.
During our Clarity Call, we’ll discuss your family, your particular situation, and if I think I can help, I’ll invite you into the Raising Resilient Kids parent course. You can then make a decision about joining. If I’m not the best person to help, I’ll let you know that too.
Whether or not you are invited into the program, you’ll leave the Clarity Call with a road map on moving forward. I’m looking forward to connecting.
I’m rooting for you.
Warmly,
Talia
