Appreciation.

Today for breakfast it was leftover porridge. The kids loved it at dinner last night — I flavored it with miso and a chicken broth I made myself, big winner at dinner. So instead of cooking from scratch this morning, I added some spinach and fried a sunny-side-up egg. My son devoured it, but then my son devours pretty much anything in front of him. Not the pickiest of eaters.

My daughter sees her bowl and I immediately know what's wrong. She hasn't even tried it.

My daughter has Hashimoto's, a thyroid condition. We found a way, through diet, to keep her levels stable without medication, so I'm always watching what she eats. I try my best to make food she enjoys, but I'm cooking three meals a day for four people — my wife, my son, my daughter with her needs, me with my own dietary stuff. I'm not any type of chef. Sometimes, for my own sanity, it's steamed sweet potato, a little broccoli, a fried egg over rice, and that's the meal. I've grown to really enjoy cooking and baking over the years, but for the sake of time and my own mental, the food isn't always the most appealing. I get that. I have my wins though — Monday mornings, frozen blueberries on the bottom of the bowl, hot oats over the top, cut up some banana, bam, meal one done in under 30 minutes. Big win for me.

This morning was not that. She sat there with a look of disgust. The egg didn't look the way she likes it, and the porridge had bits of onion she doesn't like. Ten minutes of picking at her food, not eating, while the clock ticked and her brother needed to get to his class. Her energy seeped into me, and out came the prototypical dad lecture: not everyone is lucky enough to have a hot meal every day, some kids don't get a meal at all, and the lack of appreciation really angers me.

I'm big on energy — how we project it onto the people around us. I always tell my kids it's okay to be mad, sad, angry, frustrated. Those feelings are theirs, and I want them to have room to feel them. What I call them out on is projecting that energy onto everyone else. And there I was, ten minutes deep into a lecture, projecting right back at her. I'm 43 and I'm not perfect — I lose control, I get frustrated, my anxiety can take over. The tools I have came from years of practice and awareness, and I'm still working on it. So it took me a minute, but I caught it.

Once I caught it, my tone changed. I told her it's natural not to like everything I cook. I don't expect that — some of what I make is out of necessity, for her health and for speed. But I'd rather she tell me than sit there giving me that energy across the table. If she had said, "Dad, the egg is a bit rubbery and the porridge has these onion bits I don't like — do I have to eat it?" — no attitude, just words — my answer is completely different. Eat some of it, please. I won't force you to finish something you don't like, but you need something in your body, and I don't have time to cook another meal, so get a little in and lunch will come. She says her piece, I understand where she's coming from, and we move on with our morning.

I'll be honest — I still gave her the lecture before I caught myself. So I'm not writing this as someone who has it figured out. I'm asking her to notice her energy and communicate, and I'm over here still practicing the exact same thing. I guess we're working on it together.

Cheers to you and your family.