Oh, man. All these awesome mama moments in one week? How is one to handle such things?
And really, I shouldn't say "mama" moments at all because they really have little to do with me. They're about my children growing and blossoming and becoming their own awesome little selves, and I just happen to be noticing. There's some pride in there, too, however. Full disclosure.
Tonight's bit of awesomeness? The Goblin Queen ate roasted broccoli. Not only has she never wanted to join our enthusiastic clan of roasted broccoli-eaters, she's never cared for the stuff no matter its preparation. Neither of them have. But I really do believe it's important to just keep offering them foods, regardless of whether they eat them, as it often takes dozens of attempts before they finally decide they will deign to allow the offending food to pass their lips--and possibly, if no one's watching, like it.
So tonight, as I prepared their little divided plates (which, incidentally, I love for many reasons, but really do think contribute to the classic childhood aversion of food touching--we consequently only have a pair of them), I stuck a small floret of broccoli in each of the very American-sized (read: TINY) vegetable sections and assumed they wouldn't be touched. Or, in the case of King Toad Agooga, tossed disdainfully on the floor, as he deems the fitting fate for all things he finds on his plate that fall in the category of "Oh, HELL, no."
BUT. As we ALL know--you make an ASS out of (YO)U and ME when you assume things, and this night, I did, in fact, make an ass out of myself, and I suppose my children...? Hmmm. Not sure that adage always works entirely properly. No matter. I love it all the same.
This is excepting, of course, in the case of KTA, who did, dutifully, toss said broccoli on the floor in disgust. But the goblin! The goblin ate the broccoli. Both The Barbarian and I spied her pick up the first piece (for whatever reason, even though they were small, I thought cutting them a bit might prove more beneficial to success--mama intuition, people) and glancing at each other, we held our breath while she put it in her mouth and proceeded to make the most adorable "I'm not sure I like this at all, or even whether it's really food, but for some reason, I can't stop eating it and think I might, in fact, actually like it" face. Trust me. The face said ALL those things in quick succession, The Barbarian and I stealing glances at each other and attempting not to burst out laughing. And then? THEN she reached for another! And another! And finally had a few more pieces from my plate. What in the world is actually going on around here?
So there you have it. My child ate roasted broccoli and I couldn't be happier.
It's the little things, right?
(But seriously, crossing to this side of the "I Heart Broccoli" fan club is NOT little. This is where the cool people reside, after all. THIS IS HUGE.)