Fari Vagnari a Pizzu

"'Ah, young fellow,' he said to Vito. 'People tell me you're rich. You and your two friends. But don't you think you've treated me a little shabbily? After all, this is my neighborhood and you should let me wet my beak.'"

--Don Fanucci
The Godfather by Mario Puzo

For dinner, Ava will eat blueberries and Kraft Cheese & Macaroni, the occasional handful of spaghetti, dinner rolls and snack crackers. That's it. She'll eat plenty of traditional breakfast and lunch foods, but dinners have really become a challenge. And it's frustrating because we get the reports from daycare and she's eaten cheese enchiladas for lunch and I'm like "WTF?!"

That ended today. Today, Ava ate her damn dinner. We're not proud of our methods, and when she goes on Dr. Phil someday and he says "Well shoot, Ava, when do you think your food issues started?" we can all look back on this day and then Dr. Phil can ramble on to us about some bullshit about how we failed as parents.

But dammit, today Ava ate her damn dinner.

We've always been very aware of what she eats. We don't feed her crap. We did not buy a single jar of baby food because I made everything she ate when she switched to solids. We feed her the best food we can afford--organic produce, fresh eggs from the farm just up the road, we read labels obsessively, and she doesn't get high-fructose corn syrup or partially hydrogenated oil of any sort.

But when she stopped eating, we got desperate. Damn you, Kraft foods, and your stupid mac & cheese. We switched to the Kirkland organic macaroni & cheese, because that made us feel better even though we know it's still crap. Those horrible Tyson chicken nuggets that are shaped like freaking Mickey Mouse, God help us, are another favorite. When that bag of deep fried mechanically separated tortured chickens was gone, we decided that we would just make our own damn nuggets, and I did. It wasn't hard--the internets have lots of information about how to make your own healthier versions of crappy food. And she refused to even touch them. She won't eat any vegetables, not even carrots or peas anymore.

I'm going to take this opportunity to give Rob some props. He's as crafty as they come, and he saw that this was going to take more than just "Well, she'll eat when she's hungry." Rob had a brilliant idea. Tonight, we found out what Ava's currency is. What does Ava love more than anything in this world? More than Elmo or Blue's Clues or the green blanket? M&Ms. We just happened to have some.

"Ava, do you want an M&M?"
"OK!"
"Then eat one bite of that."
"NOM"

"Do you want another M&M?"
"YES!"
"Then eat 2 bites."
"NOM NOM"

"Do you want another M&M?"
"YES ANEMENEM!"
"Then finish it."

And damn if she didn't finish an entire homemade and previously untouchable organic free range chicken nugget and two dried plums.

Go ahead. Call CPS. I dare you. Because you have a price too. Ava's currency is M&Ms. In the future, she'll have to work harder to get each one. My goal is for her to finish her entire meal for two M&Ms. The amount of good healthy food she will have to eat for each M&M far outweighs the negative impact of this bribery. As long as our little Don Fanucci cleans her plate, she can have an M&M or two. This is my neighborhood, now, and if she wants the good stuff, she's going to have to earn it.

Tomorrow, she's going to eat tilapia. She's going to love it.