Nate is no trouble at all. None. He dislikes avocado (which he calls wacka-moley) and olives. And sometimes egg yolks, though he can do serious damage to a plate of deviled eggs (like Mama, like son). He did eat avocado in some sushi once, and liked it, but has been adament in his dislike ever since. Picks it out of sushi, refuses to have anything to do with it. It's such a healthy, fabulous food that it kills me that he hates it, but such is life.
I've written in the past about my worry about Nate; that he doesn't like to take real risks, that he plays life a little too safe for my tastes. I try really hard to embrace who my childrean ARE, not who I want them to be, and I think I'm pretty successful for the most part. But we all have dreams for our kids, and being an accountant or lawyer is not my dream for my boys. I'll obviously support them whatever they love, but...
So tonight I'm laying out dinner: bowls of brown rice and veggie chili, with bowls of shredded lettuce, vegan cheese, and guacamole for toppings. While I was organizing everything, Nate asked me if he could take a "teeny bite" of the "wacka-moley." I froze in my tracks where he couldn't see me, and squeaked out "Um, of course!" I hear the spoon, and I hear him say "yick" and then I hear him yell "I'm a risk taker!" My heart. There was praising. There was talking about "This is what life is all about, trying new things, being a risk-taker." There was Mama-smooching. There was Natey-squirming. There were shy, prideful smiles.
At dinner, he asked me to put half a spoon of guacamole on his chili, and we mixed it all up. He ate it all. Then he took a spoon and asked if he could eat out of the bowl of guacamole. Um, HELL yes. So he did, and told Daddy "I'm a wacka-moley risk taker."
Nate, tonight you made me so happy. You're on your way.
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