Peanut butter vs. Tyler

Tyler is a funny little six year old. He has major food aversions. Basically, anything mixed with anything else is a big no-no in his book. He likes the food plain with -nothing- else, no sauces and definitely nothing mixed up (such as a casserole). He is also picky about textures, and trying something new is completely fear inducing. He has complete fits about it. We enforce the "one-bite-rule" at dinner -- that he has to have one bite of everything, and then he can have a piece of fruit or a hard boiled egg. It usually takes an eternity for him to get through it, and there is usually crying along the way.

He is also a creature of habit. He really does not like change. There was a long time that he could wear the same outfit to church each Sunday. Same suit. Same tie. No change. I realized not long ago that he needed to start mixing it up, because he was getting bigger, and the suit wasn't. There was crying. Tantrums. Screaming. Bribery. Complete and utter misery. The M&M's finally won the battle and he -tried on- a different pair of church pants. He will wear them now occasionally, but he still wears his go-to outfit of his black pinstriped suit with a gray zip-tie 90% of the time. M&M's have to come fight the battle for me if I want the tan pants.

So, since he was in preschool two years ago, he has only eaten one kind of sandwich. One. No, not a PB&J. A colby-jack and jam sandwich. He used to prefer cheddar, but now it has morphed into a colby-jack preference and nothing else will do. He finally will tolerate other types of jam besides strawberry, which is a blessing. How did this come to pass? Two years ago, he was at a friend's house playing. The mom was making lunch, and she asked what he wanted. He thought about it, and proclaimed that he wanted cheese and jam. She was perplexed, but made it for him anyway. I chatted with her later and we had a good laugh about it. I thought that was the end of that. Except he wanted it again, and again. That has been the only sandwich he will eat since then.

Nope. No peanut butter. He hates the stuff with a vengeance. I dunno if it is the texture, or the taste, but he has never liked it. It has made me crazy. Roy and I both have a PB addiction problem. Nathan has his own personal jar that he purchased. All four of us would be happy with a PBJ (ok, and PB and banana for me) for lunch every day for the rest of our lives. Not him. He is perfectly content with his jam and cheese (which is really not so tasty by the way -- I found that out from personal experience).

A few weeks ago I decided that I was done with the whole thing. I started making putting the sticky stuff in baked goods. Smoothies. Cookies. I have been letting him know -- especially when he likes it. This morning I was making him a smoothie for breakfast. I grabbed the jar and put a spoonful in. I looked at him and told him to lick the spoon. You would have thought I was asking him to eat bugs. I gave him a pleading look, and miraculously, he reached out his little finger to the spoon, and touched it to his tongue. He eyes grew wide. I told him to lick the spoon. He was beyond freaked out, but I coached him through it (it took a long while). He smiled and said he needed some milk. I gave him his smoothie and he happily went to go drink it. I proceeded to make him the pinnacle of all sandwiches -- the peanut butter and honey. I cut off a small piece and walked over to him. He saw what I had and about started gagging and crying. I begged and pleaded. I told him if he didn't like it I would make him his old standby for lunch. He must have been in a good mood, because he took the bite. Miracles do happen.

He now has a PB&H sandwich in his lunch today. I couldn't be prouder. One of life's little milestones.