Last week I received a message from a frustrated mother regarding her son’s eating habits. She explained that breakfast seemed to be a particularly difficult meal of the day for her as she was running low on options and ideas. I’ve noticed that breakfast can be challenging for many parents. It really needn’t be as long as there’s some planning ahead involved and you’re able to see beyond the basics like cereals and bread. Go ahead and experiment. It’s something you definitely will not regret.
During a Sunday walk in Limassol I saw something that sparked this post. A little girl who could not have been younger than six years old was holding a carrot and attempting to feed it to a donkey that was pulling a carriage. Turns out this was something akin to mathematical problem solving because the mother could not have been more ecstatic that her daughter had figured out how to feed a carrot to a donkey. The word ‘bravo’ was said more than five times. Clapping was involved and various other cheering effects.
I can breeze through the sweets aisle at the supermarket when Georgie is with me. You see, we’ve talked about it and worked long and hard enough for him to know what I’m ok with him choosing at what not.
But the cereal aisle. Man! Completely different situation.
In fact it may actually be far worse than the sweet aisle. The colourful packaging, the chocolate coating, the superheroes and the princesses and all that hidden sugar. And then of course comes the inevitable question: ‘But mummy its breakfast cereal! It’s not sweets! Why can’t I have it?’
Lately, Georgie’s been trying my patience. There are moments when it’s like I’m not even there, like my voice cannot be heard, like I have to do a silly dance or scream ‘F@£%’ at the top of my lungs. I actually haven’t tried that yet. Instead I thought I’d try a less crazy and more creative route.
I’m a huge fan of classic games. Especially outdoor ones that meant the world to me growing up. Hide and Seek, Marbles, Simon Says, Jump Rope and of course, Hopscotch. I have no memories of playing hopscotch as a child in England but fast forward to our move to Cyprus and there are plenty. At school, at the playground, at home, in the middle of a dead-end road I have fond memories of a chalk in my hand and hopping to and fro with my friends for what seemed like hours!