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Just about every time I cook, they cry… I cry… everyone cries

Listen. I have children who do not consume.

I have




who do not consume.

*requires deep breath* I have attempted meals on sticks, created faces, on platters, person servings, Bento boxes, funny names, cute picks, paper cups, begging, pleading, ignoring, bribing, extra ignoring, crying, speaking to specialists, weary resignedness, hiding fruit and veg, mashing fruit and veg, generating icy poles, generating smoothies, bargaining, sensory play, reading books about healthful consuming, modelling great consuming habits, offering a assortment of meals, gentle encouragement, reverse psychology, crying in the pantry, letting them consume in front of the television in case it distracts them sufficient, serving loved ones-style, placing the meals in a trail with a treat at the finish, letting them go to bed without having dinner (never ever bothers them), serving up cold dinner for breakfast, letting them support cook, letting them support meal program, letting them support shop, sighing in the supermarket aisles, hoping they’ll develop out of it, and we sit down at the table for dinner as a loved ones each evening.

I’m positive there’s extra.

I make great meals, and a lot of it. They do not consume it. This is my life now.