Most people don’t realize I’m a picky eater because, well, I’m a grown-up. The truth is that I have been highly selective (ahem) since I was a little girl; I’m just better at hiding it now. I’m also the mother of one consistently and highly selective eater and one intermittently and moderately selective eater.
Not to brag or anything, but I’ve got forty years of rejecting suspicious foods under my belt, and almost a decade of experience trying to feed my own little food-rejectors. I’ve read all the books, talked to lots of experts, sighed all the sighs, and driven myself bat-shit crazy trying to figure out how to get my girls to eat more foods.
I’ve finally found some peace with it all, and if I can help just one parent avoid a power struggle over a single grain of quinoa (not that I would know anything about that, ahem), then it will have all been worth it. Well, mostly worth it.
First, we’re going to start with the Golden Rules. Forget these at your own peril.