Old Post V
So for those of you who didn't know, one of our closest friends, Sibavaughn is out for a week from Calgary. It has been great having her around, to say nothing of the free babysitting, but while she was here, Isaac has kind of been getting away with murder. Especially around supper time, when he has recently decided that he wants sweets, sweets, and more sweets.

Now keep in mind that in our house, sweets are not snickers bars, they are fresh fruit, and maybe a bit of baking, but that's it. Almost entirely fruit. And when the fruit is fresh raspberries from a u-pick, who can blame the guy, but it was getting out of hand.

For instance Sib and I tried to feed him on Thursday when Noelle was at work, and he fussed, and cried and carried on. But we handed him an entire Nectarine whole, and in under 3 minutes he had reduced it to little more than a pit. Clearly it was time to put our collective parenting foot down...babies can not live on fruit alone, as you know.

Sib went up to Borden to visist some family, so we would not be disturbing her meal, and the stage was set. So tonight, as I set down to a pleasant meal of Pork Chops and gravy, I heard...
cue the music...
"Isaac, you are not getting a sweet until you have had some more supper..."
*a tumbleweed blows by*
*frightened villagers duck behind false-front buildings for cover*
*the nervous sherrif watches from the safety of the town jail*

So it started with carrots. No dice.
"That's fine, we don't have to eat right away. we can wait." says Noelle.
Then it's potatoes. Same result, the hands brushing the spoon aside, and his new favorite word "NO!"

"I'm in no hurry, Isaac. We can wait until youi are ready."

*another tumbleweed*

This went on for several minutes, and frankly, the tension was killing me...I went upstairs to do something or other, any excuse to get out of the path of the irresistable force meeting the immovable object. I come back down and...

Noelle is peeling a Nectarine. "It's not like I'm giving him chocolate. And he's teething, so he doesn't have much appetite."

*The townsfolk rejoice! Disaster is averted!*

Years ago, a good friend, and a bit of a mentor at the Student's Union said to me "Jason, sometimes you have to pick your hill to die on." Which was a very Korean War way of saying you aren't going to win every battle, so choose them carefully.

Bottom line is, he still can't do anything that will hurt him (i.e. stand up balancing on the side of the stove, even if it's not on), and he still goes to bed precisely when we want him to, after about 1/2 an hour of bath and stories... It's just interesting to see who won the first big showdown. :)

Frankly, I don't know where he gets it from :)