Don't Back Down

A mother at school, J, was telling me a terrible tale last week about how her daughter, E aged 5, had refused to eat her supper. J had just delivered a series of lectures on healthy eating (all supported by the school) and told me that her two other older children had taken them on board and were now toeing the line, but the youngest was absolutely taking a stand. “It’s not like I feed them crap, either.” Said J. I know the feeling. You carefully craft a chicken pie out of all organic ingredients and home made pastry and they would rather chow down on hula hoops and bread and butter, refusing your nutritious and delicious offering, the miserable ingrates.

J decided enough was enough, and at a low emotional ebb, took a stand. (Just writing that has made me break out in a cold sweat). “E was warned quite clearly that if she didn't try and eat a bit of the small portion of food I measured out into a ramekin dish for her supper, it would be served up for breakfast. So she did know what was coming.” J told me. And then as an after thought, J added: “It was only two teaspoons worth.” So, after E refused her supper and J took to her moral high horse, the story goes that E woke the next morning and was served again her delicious salmon en croute and maintained her stance. The other two children, no doubt fascinated with the whole scenario, were lured away to school by a neighbour called in for the sole purpose of enabling J to follow through with her threat.

E and her nostril flared mother, J, settled down for the long haul. This involved much gentle coercion from J, followed by some shouting and then a few comedy phone calls (her husband phoned and J, ever the fast thinker, pretended to E it was the head master from school phoning to enquire where E, now very late for school, was…). At some point during the standoff, E spooned the fish in to her mouth but spat it out and J dutifully scooped it back in to the ramekin. As time passed, E said she needed to go to the loo, it had been several hours after all. J wouldn’t back down again and said that if E was really desperate she should just go… which she did… all over the kitchen floor… and with her pants still moist, E was back in her seat facing the offending fish.

Finally, J resorted to the old chestnut used by most mothers I know at some stage or another: “It is against the law for you to be at home when you should be at school and I will go to prison if the school enforcement officer finds out.” Said J rather sadly. E challenged J to name the school enforcement officer (J did – I believe, for those of you who ever need him, his name is “Lou”) and that, or perhaps the prospect of sitting in wet pants facing a ramekin of regurgitated fish was enough to change E’s mind. E finally ate the pre-masticated salmon she had previously refused and was allowed to go to school. After changing her pants.

How many times have we, as mothers, made rash statements? “If you don’t get in the car now, I will leave without you…” “If you don’t tidy your toys away I will throw them in the bin…” “If you don’t eat that delicious salmon, I will serve it to you for breakfast…” and I think the moral of this story has to be, if you make the threat you really REALLY have to follow through for you ever to have credibility again. J won this round, her daughter E is now happily eating everything set before her, but it was a close run thing. If J had shown even the slightest sign of weakening it would all have gone horribly wrong. So, mothers, keep a cool head and any time you feel an ultimatum coming on, for God’s sake imagine what it will be like when you enforce it. And remember, Lou is there if you need him.