So Master 8 and Master 5 crossed a line last night and then there was a standoff for the first time in their short lives about food.
I have been previously quite adamant that whilst there are rules around food, there will be no fights over food in our house. For one thing, as a shift worker, me actually eating with my kids is a rarity, so the few times I get to share a meal, I did not want it to be a battle ground each time.

Also, I did not want food, body image, health and self-worth to get muddled in my boys heads.
We don’t talk about weight, we talk about health.
We don’t talk about good and bad food, we talk about balance, and moderation and health.
I never comment on whether i am fat, skinny, or otherwise.
We talk about being strong, fit, healthy and active.
But last night I realised how far down a rabbit hole we were and I drew the line.

Master 8 has always been a bit of a pain in the bum around food. As a baby, as soon as he had enough muscle control, he would spit out foodstuffs he didn’t like, and they firmly and consistently were vegetables and fruit.
So before he was verbal, he was rejecting these food stuffs.
He has always dislike slimy, slippery foods. He doesn’t like bread either, so school lunches have been a hassle.
Funnily enough he loves pasta bolognese, butter chickens, nachos.
We have managed to get him to eat mashed potatoes, as long as there is heaps of gravy.

Anyway, you get the picture – he has been a hassle around food, and because I hate fighting about food, within reason, we have allowed this. Because when you are 3, 4, 5 years old, having a rational conversation about stuff is damn near impossible.

But last night I grabbed a great big imaginary permanent marker and drew a great big bloody line in the sand, and everywhere else as well.

The new rules are:
1. Master 8 must find a vegetable or a fruit that it will not kill him to eat. And eat it. *His dad and I are ably assisting him in this venture.
This can be something like some carrot sticks. A quarter of an orange. Some blueberries.
2. Master 8 and Master 5 must eat whatever we put on their plates, without begging for mercy or destroying dinner with theatrics or I will double the serving.
3. Breakfast must be eaten every morning.
4. I will not allow tea overs, sleep overs or attendance at camps if his diet rules do not change.

There are other clauses and caveats, but you get the picture.
Master 5 is practically a vegetarian next to Master 8 and it is time for the crap about food to stop.

I feel resolute and proud of my parenting and my resolve.
I started by cutting an inch of carrot and asking him to bite it. He eventually ate it like medicine, swallowing each piece with water, but not before talking himself into a hollywood worthy vomit of the poison I was jamming down his throat.

Hmmm, seems I have this parenting thing licked! What is next? World peace?