It's possible that I am getting very nostalgic at the fact that these are the last few days of it being just Ellie. Or its possible that every now and then I get tired of being so strict with the rules in our house. But tonight Ellie D got the best of me, and I know that Mike was internally groaning at what a softy I was being.
The dinner table rules at the Drzewiecki household are that 'you have to have a bite of everything on your plate' and that 'you must stay seated until everyone has finished'. There are lots of other little rules like 'don't bang your silverware on the table' and 'sit facing forward', but the first two are pretty steadfast. I also love to eat outdoors when the weather is permitting, but that generally means more up and down's from the chair from Ellie because she isn't strapped into her booster seat and well, its outside.
There are also no special meals for Ellie. She has always eaten what we were having for dinner and I am quite proud of her diverse palate. Tonight was no exception, and we had lemon sole with shaved brussel sprouts and brown rice. Not an atypical meal, but I am generally fairly lenient on Ellie when we have strict greens for a vegetable such as kale, spinach or brussel sprouts. She punished her "sifh" first (for some reason with words like fish and finish she puts the s in front of the f) and was left with a rather large serving of brown rice and brussel sprouts. She took one bite of the brussel sprouts and barely kept them in her mouth and her one bite of rice before she was starting in with the squirming out of her chair and getting out of her seat. Then she declared that she wanted ice cream. I wasn't actually thinking she would take the challenge, but I said that she had to be in the real-deal clean plate club if she wanted to go get some ice cream. She perked right up and started to act as if she was actually going to do it. I told her to mix in her brussel sprouts with her rice and started to internally cheer for her to finish given the gumption on her face. Let's just say she had a mind to do it, but it was quite drawn out and she was taking beyond forever to finish. I was trying hard to keep it together because Mike was less than impressed and felt like she had lost her privileges long ago.
She did it though. And I felt like she deserved her ice cream, even if I was shoveling the brussel sprouts and brown rice in and maybe there was a little left on the plate. We had a fabulous little walk down to the shop (ok it was Italian Ice but she didn't know the difference) and ate our ice cream with huge smiles on our face. She held my hand the whole time without trying to pull away and chit chatted about everything. It was a sweet moment that I will remember forever. She even got ready for bed quickly and without much fussing like I had asked and she was only 15 min late for bed.
The hard part is going to be not repeating this every night. I mean, c'mon, I am 9 months pregnant and emotional. Let's face it, I want the ice cream too!
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