Eating Salad at the Table

One advantage of autism can be the lack of imitation. When I was a kid I wanted to be like my mom, so I decided that I did not like tomatoes. Years later as an adult I ate a fresh tomato and loved it. Think of all the delicious fresh garden tomatoes I missed out on for twenty years.

Neither Allen nor I like melon or raisins. If our kid were typical, we'd probably have a completely melon and raisin free house, missing out on all that iron my mom goes on and on about every time I say I don't like raisins. Our child would go places and be rude not eating other peoples melon and raisin fruit salads. But lucky for us, he cares naught for what we like and decides whether he likes or dislikes something all on his own and will eat raisins, melons and peas with abandon where ever they are served.

Since I introduced the idea to him, three years ago or more, Derek hasn't liked anything leafy - green salad, collard greens, beet greens, mustard greens, kale, creamed spinach. Barely a bite. This has resulted in a lot of brocolli and cauliflower consumption at our house outside of green bean and asparagus season. But suddenly this last weekend Derek got excited about salad.

I was going through the vegetable drawer and found some spinach. Derek wandered by and exclaimed "Salad!" He tore off a bite and ate a bit of raw spinach. Who is this? Who stole my child and replaced him with this changeling?

Yesterday we're in the produce section walking toward the wall of salad. "Salad!" he exclaims again and runs over to choose a bag. He even chooses one of the larger bags of your basic green salad mix. I'm still a bit suspicious, so I suggest he choose the smaller bag.

This is where the other part of the title comes in. For the last couple years, Derek hasn't liked to eat at a table. He'll eat while wandering or while watching TV or while playing, but hardly ever at the table and it's a losing battle to get him to sit at one. Last week after school, he ordering me around a pretend school day. He'd pretend to hand me a colored ticket and insist I go to that station. It occurs to me that I can hijack this system school has drilled into his head and make our kitchen table like a station at school. I made a little purple envelope and two purple tickets. Now I give him that ticket and say "Go to purple" and he will go sit at the table.

The potential flaw in the plan is not in the system, but in the person implementing the system. I've made countless resolutions to get Derek to sit at the table, to eat real meals, and so on. I'll get enthusiastic for a week and then slack off and things are back to the status quo. And the guilt and self-berating begins. However, I think I have a new perspective on this. For the last five years I've been pretty consistent about bedtime. I take him through almost the same routine almost every night. So if I can do that, I can establish and consistently take him through a dinnertime routine. School has established this ticket system for me, so I don't have to train him on that. It's good for both of us to sit down together for dinner, so it will reinforce itself soon, like bedtime does. And now I've got both of you gentle readers to remind me. Yay!

So yesterday I implemented the new system. He sat down to dinner. I served salad. He ate some. A flake of snow fell in hell.