Butterbeans and Water

Juice. The curse of my life. I grew up having juice for breakfast every morning. We were always poor. I mean dirt poor. I mean welfare-cheese poor. But we always had juice for breakfast. Usually watered down by half, they way it's supposed to be.

So once I left home I always had juice around. I only drank it at breakfast, but I've never broken the habit. (My husband grew up drinking Diet Coke for breakfast and he still does. When I first met him I thought this was the most unnatural breakfast beverage imaginable. Pop is something one drinks occationally at barbeques, Not every morning at breakfast. Weirdo.)


Then the babies came alone, and they got watered-juice for breakfast, and they wanted it for lunch and dinner and in between meals too. And I gave in because it was easier than the fight. (although never at night when it would rot the teeth out of their heads, thank goodness I was strong enough to resist that trap)

Anyhow.

Problem one:
Buttercup is a VERRRRY picky eater. And when I get stubborn and refuse to fix one of the three food items she will deign to eat, I kinda figured she was just going hungry holding out until dessert came along. But then I realized she was filling up on juice.

Problem two: The kids won't drink water now. Not unless they're dying of thirst and even then they complain about it. And this just makes me tense. I love water. It's divine. The drink of the Gods. And my kids won't drink it. This is BAD.

So just a couple weeks ago I stopped buying juice, cold turkey. The kids have been whining about it, but today I gave them a long speach about how good water is for them and how I'm not buying juice anymore because they won't drink water and that it's not good for their bodies.

And I know that blossom and buttercup are only four and three, but they got it. I really think they got it. They drank all their water and then bragged about it. I'm hoping if this goes on for a few more months I can go back to buying juice and having it at breakfast. I really prefer it to water for that one meal.

Victory.
And another too.

We love butterbeans round these parts. We eat them several times a week. Just plain, or in stuff too. But Buttercup won't eat them. She won't eat anything. If you suggest she should try something new (she's getting of an age where she should be coming out of the picky toddler stage) she breaks down and will not eat anything, for hours. She'll go to her room and cry until she falls asleep rather than even look at a food other than those listed below.

Things Buttercup eats:
Veggies: Corn, if you can call corn a veggie. One baby carrot per month.
Fruit: Bananas. Blueberries. Apple sauce. apples no skins if she's desperate. pears no skins ditto.
Carbs: rice. bread. french fries, hash browns, but no baked or mashed or otherwise prepaired potatoes (doesn't this girl know her duty as an Idahoan?). naked noodles.
Protein: peanut butter. Eggs, yokes only, unless scrambled. Chicken nuggets, gag, grandma's fault, gag. Yogurt.
Sugars and fats: You name it, she'll eat it.

I would like to announce!!! Today Buttercup ate butterbeans. Yes, it's true. And she liked them. How did I accomplish this awesome feat? Bribary. That's right. Naked Bribary.

I said "Buttercup, I think you should try the butterbeans."
"No!" she cried, "I don't wlike butterbeans."
"You've never tried butterbeans. You don't know if you like them or not."
"I don't wlike butterbeans!" Whiney and on the edge of tears.

We've had this conversation many times before, substitue "peas, peaches, squash" I usually just drop it. Hoping the conversation will change one of these days.
Meanwhile Blossom and Brick have downed the rest of the beans between them. Smacking their lips and saying "yum, Yum". I don't pay those two enough.

I don't know what made me think of it, but I said, "Buttercup, if you eat one butterbean I throw you up in the air. Ten times!"
She stopped crying and went thoughful.
"Okay!"

She picked up a butterbean, licked it. "Yum!" she said. She took a tiny nibble, "mum" she said. She nibbled away at it in sand-sized chunks until it was all gone (five minutes later). Then I said, "If you eat five butterbeans I throw you in the air TWENTY times." Thinking if she got used to eating them, she might do it again someday.

"okay" she said, ekking away slowly at four more beans.

Happy Story.

Except, well, it turns out that I am physically incapable of tossing her in the air ten times,let alone twenty. I made it to six and I thought I was going to die. Luckily she was just as pleased with being balanced on my shoulders and twirled until we both almost hurled.