A finicky eater at 2 years old

Yes, that about sums up MY son right after he turned two.

He is a chip right off his mom's block(even if I am now ashamed to admit it) and has inherited probably my worst gene of all - being picky.

There is such a long list of food I don't eat, touch or even sniff at simply because of its texture, taste or looks - that I don't even wanna list it down.  My girlfriends were sometimes surprised that despite all my adventurous gourmet spirit, I am a seriously picky eater at heart.

Now, I get a taste of my own bad medicine when my son says "No!" very determinedly to the dinner bowl that I had so painstakingly prepared for him - packed full of vitamins, fibre and proteins...and all into the bin.

Instead, he makes a beeline for the fridge, uses all his mighty force and opens the magical door, and his little hands goes straight for the cheese.

Ahhh....protein.  GOOD.  But, he can't seriously think he can get away with just eating cheese for dinner!!! *gasp!*  EVERY night!?!?  Maybe I should just get a cow for a pet.

Whatever ignorance bliss I had been enjoying in the past has now dissipated at the dinner table.  I fret and ponder and pray that he will eat at least a few spoonfuls of whatever I am preparing - no wonder I am getting more white hair these days.

Turning quite into his own character these days, I am still hanging onto hopes that maybe(just a tad maybe...) he might transform into his father one fine day and just eat about anything I put in front of him.  That's the kind of guy I like.  ;)

Then again, he's got my genes. *groan*  Good or bad, I just have to live with it day by day, meal, by meal.  To think of it, I bet my mom had a tough time with me when I was young.  I remember hating to eat leeks - and yes, I still DO hate to eat leeks.  Yucks.

Every night is a challenge for me now as I struggle in the kitchen and wrestle with my conscience.  Mac and cheese?  Mashed potatoes and chicken?  Beans and hotdogs?  French fries?  I think my mom will have a heart attack reading what her precious grandson is eating.  Oh well, she will know when she arrives in April and have a face-off with him in person.  Can't wait to see that one.  Kekeke....

The thing is - he is growing well and shooting up like a beanstalk.  Cheeks are chubby and still pinchable, legs are strong and fingers are quick, mind is exponentially expanding to accommodate all the alphabets I am teaching him(he recognizes "O", "S", "E", "W", "D") and he calls his favourite toy tank engine "Thomaskiki" - a word we hear around the house much more than even "Papa" or "Mama".

The bottomline is - he is not starving, but just picky.  He'll survive.  Just like I did.

It is almost 4pm and time for the maman gourmande to fret about her next challenge for the night - will he take to unagi-don?  Hmmm...I'm hoping the sweet teriyaki sauce will do the trick.  Wish me luck.  ;)