This morning I moved the snacks in my house from toddler-accessible cabinets to tall, impossible-for-anyone-under-5-feet-tall-to-reach cabinets.
Now I’m shaking in my boots, nervous for the moment my two toddlers walk into the house from daycare, demanding their afternoon snacks. They’re going to walk over to the kitchen, pull open the short cabinet, and find … flour and baking soda. Olive oil. Protein powder. Peppermint tea. Their puffs, crackers, raisins, canned mandarin oranges, etc. are now in a high-up cabinet over the stove.
I expect my 20-month-old daughter to look at me, confused and a little sad, maybe saying “where ‘cots?” in her sweet little voice, referring to dried apricots. But my 3-year-old son, who is a much more advanced talker and tantrum-thrower, will make his feelings known loud and clear. I expect tears, “I WANT FOOD, MOMMY!!”, probably some cabinet-door slamming and maybe some throwing of the food that is in there.
I’ll explain to him that the snacks have moved, that from now on he needs to ask mommy or daddy before he cracks open a bag of Goldfish. He’ll try to negotiate. I’ll tell him that he has two options; either ask for a snack or not have a snack. He’ll yell, “Those AREN’T my options! Moving snacks BACK HERE is my option!” I’ll hold firm. Maybe.
Moving the snacks is one of those parenting decisions that seems so silly. I never would have thought I’d be having a conversation with a friend about whether I should move the snacks to a cabinet my kids can’t reach, but yesterday, that’s what I found myself doing. How much control should my tiny kids have over what they eat and when they eat it? Does it really matter that they can grab crackers by themselves if they don’t ever really eat more than one or two anyway? My friend said, kindly: Well, yeah, it kinda does matter. You should probably have control over when and what they eat.
And I know that’s true. That’s what the experts say. Toddlers get to choose how much and whether they eat, and parents choose what, when and where they eat. So I listened to the experts and my friend, and moved the snacks. One small decision, one small step toward taking some more control over my household, one surefire recipe for a few tantrums and many failed negotiations (although I’m still not sure whether it’ll be my son or me who’s failing).
Wish me luck on their arrival home from daycare. Godspeed to me.