Before we have kids, we all wonder about how they will look, what their personalities will be, and how that ties into any of our own appearances, mannerisms or preferences. We tend to focus on how similar they will be to us versus how dissimilar they could turn out. Once they come, and grow past early baby stages, our expectations can be either confirmed or refuted.
Every once in a while, child rearing completely throws us a curve ball.
For me, one shocker came by the time Jack was three – my son is a vegetarian. Nothing wrong with that, but I would have never seen that one coming. My decidedly carnivorous practices are enough to make any vegetarian hold a protest rally outside our house. We live in Montana, where cattle is big. I grew up in a meat and potatoes home. A meal without meat hardly feels like I ate at all.
Instead of feasting off of beasts, Jack’s diet is centered on adequate nutrition that also subtracts most texture. The oral aversion issues he has stemming from his extreme prematurity have always proven too hard to handle. Instead of meat checking the protein box in his daily diet, peanut butter is king. It’s mixed into almost every meal to some degree, and he happens to be a big fan.
Jack has not surrendered to texture. In fact, he tackles it daily in his Cheeto routine in the afternoon. It’s his afternoon tea. We hope this practice, along with other efforts to get him to explore new foods, will help him conquer the texture.
If you had told me ten years ago that my kid would be a vegetarian, I probably would have laughed to your face. But sometimes, our kids take us in directions we never expected to go. And that’s perfectly fine with me.Just don’t ask me to give up bacon, Jack.