Picking my battles

This is my daily mantra when dealing with life or lately with a toddler. Choose your bloody battle damn it!

Bean is a fussy eater. You can see fear and disgust on his face when something new/old is presented to him at home or when eating out, but he’ll eat almost anything at daycare! And oh he’ll devour anything coated in sugar or icing. Go figure.

There are days when I just let it go and don’t give a fuss. I still introduce new and old food on his plate and if he doesn’t eat it then he doesn’t. He’s not going to waste away. This normally ends in a very peaceful dinner time. Lots of stories, jokes and laughter all around the table. But am I making it too easy for him? Am I too soft? Is he always winning? Is he manipulating me again? I don’t know. All I know is everyone is happy.

But then, there are days when I become that Asian parent** where I utter the words you-will-eat-it-or-else-you-are-in-so-much-trouble. This normally ends in lots of tears and frustration on both sides. It also sends me to a whole new level of motherhood guilt. He’s fucking 2 years old! I remind myself. Am I to hard on him? I can see Bean’s face and how upset he is with himself that he’s not making me happy because the child is all about my happiness lately. Mummy, are you happy? Daddy are you happy? How do you answer to that? No sweety because I don’t know what the fudge I am doing. You didn’t come with manual!! And why won’t you eat? *pulls hair*

So where do I draw the line really? This fussy eating, is it really a phase? Will Bean grow out of it? I know how it made me feel when my feelings weren’t considered at the dinner table simply because I didn’t want to eat that soggy bitter gourd. I don’t want that for Bean, but at the same time, I don’t want to let Bean just get away with not trying anything before he dismisses that carrots are the works of the devil. Where is the line?

Speaking of carrots, I made the ugliest looking but the yummiest Carrot Cupcake from a recipe I found online.  It was a hit! The boy didn’t have a clue that it has carrots and he helped me make it. So I guess I am winning? We’ll ignore the sugar content in the cream cheese frosting and we’ll focus on the fact that my son actually ate carrots (in a carrot cake).


I am sure I am not alone in this battle. I am sure there is a gang of fussy eater toddlers out there communicating via secret social media discussing on how to drive their parents crazy.

Hope everyone is having a beautiful and less crazy day.

Happy International Women’s day! We do run the world as the Queen Beyonce once said. We run the world.




**no offence meant to the “Asian parent” description. I am Asian and I grew up in an old-school kind of Asian parenting where parents are the boss and my feelings and fears are just figment of their imagination, and I can only be a doctor or a lawyer or a nurse or engineer.  I am none of those.