Wednesday, January 10, 2007

squash bombs

I should have known better. One minute she's smiling at me from the grocery cart with a twinkle in her eye, and the next it's bombs away for the butternut squash. I thought I had persuaded her to keep the squash next to her in the seat since the cart was full. She patted the squashes ever so gently and told me it was OK. OK my eye. For dinner tonight: cracked squash à la gosse.

This came at the end of a long morning. Eliza kept slamming my cookbook closed, making it very difficult to search for recipes. Then he decided she only wanted to pick out the tofu bits for breakfast (of course, who doesn't?!) and wouldn't touch the brown rice or vegetables that were part of the dish - all other offers of food were turned down as well. Then on the way to the store, she complains of hunger. I had never eaten at WFM before, but I figured we'd pick out something to satisfy her. We sat down with a blueberry-banana drink from the juice bar for us and a whole grain fig bar for her. But that wasn't all.

A woman came by handing out free bags of some kettle corn snack - "great for kids - no trans fats or corn syrup." Uh-huh. Sixteen grams of sugar per cup; holy guacamole, that's more added sugar than she has in a typical month! Enjoy it, sweetie - it's your lucky day. HaShem has a sense of humor. This I know. Just ten minutes before the squash incident, Eliza decided the only thing more fun than eating the sugar-bomb kettle corn would be to dump the bag out onto the floor. The kicker of it was that I couldn't let her out of the cart to "help" because she'd be off and running.

Usually, our grocery trips go smoothly, but today I was thrown a curve ball. Once home, she asked to go upstairs for a nap, and she told me, "Mama's sad. Want a kiss?" She has been going through a phase acting indifferently to me, so I haven't had many of those this month. I've been in a blue funk all week, trying my best to hide it and keep my chin up in public. I accepted the kiss, told her I love her, and only after closing the door allowed myself to cry.

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