Food for thought

Hmmm... like most things about family life... mealtimes are not how I expected them. Not always the joyous, sharing, enjoyable occasions I imagined. Or indeed had been lead to believe. (Goddamn those Waltons I grew up watching - big fat liars)

Romany has sophisticated taste to say the least.
She will regularly ask for lychees or mango for her fruit she is obliged to take to school each day.
(she generally gets handed a satsuma, but I praise her expectations.)
She can eat a whole jar of olives and has done since about two years. She has recently discovered pickled garlic and can down several at once.

Romany was introduced to rice cakes in her early days of solid food and my sister (experienced mother of 4 boys) laughed at me knowingly, that she'd leave them behind once biscuits were discovered. Romany still chooses rice cakes over cakes, buns or puddings any day of the week.
If she's pushing the boat out, she has a carrot baton on the side.

Cole on the other hand.... this is a boy who began baby rice at 9 weeks old - go on, sue me you rightous mothers... you live with a "baby" the size of a six month old who growled at passing food and cried for the first 8 weeks of his life.
He is heading quickly towards his dad's 6'6" frame and think he was seriously hungry.
(he put on a pound a week for the first six weeks solely on breast milk - I was the star of the baby clinic.)

Cole will eat lots of Everything.
He comes home from school regularly with the "Clean Plate Award" given by the dinner ladies.
He notices immediately if you happen to be chewing but didn't offer him a share.
He can recognise a cooking smell the minute he enters the house. Most of his first conversations of the day involve the quandry of what is for breakfast.
Consequently we have had lots of "snug" trousers... partly it's genetics; he has a fantastically substantial bottom - but let's just say it's a good thing that he does lots of sport and leaping around

I realised Cole would never be a natural slimcea boy when he was not even 3 years old.
We were in our beloved coastal town of Staithes.
We'd been playing on the beach but it was quite blustery and he got cold. Ro and Reg were happy playing so Cole and I nipped in the little cafe by the beach.
He clocked and sized up the display of edibles within 4 seconds at the counter and asked for a muffin.
I got him a muffin and we sat down at the table.

I then watched in awe/disbelief as he proceeded to push The Whole thing into his mouth. This required the use of both hands and happened before I had chance to advise against it:

Then... he tried to swallow.
He began to splutter.
He began to cough.
His eyes began to bulge and water.
Oh my god, he's choking on a muffin.
I tried not to panic but didn't know what to do...
He was trying to speak...
I couldn't make out the words..
I was telling him to:
Calm down, slow down, don't try swallow all at once...
He's still trying to speak...
muffled on the muffin,
it's not clear...
I strain to hear and finally make out the words:
CAN I HAVE ANOTHER?

That's my boy... right to the bitter end, there could be room for more.

(NB: Obviously, Cole didn't choke to death - and clearly I have No Idea where this tendancy to over-induge comes from.)

So, mealtimes are spent trying to encourage healthy eating whilst discouraging overeating whilst not igniting any future eating disorders or poor body image... it's exhausting... and my conclusion is to have a glass of wine - now, can I have another?