Two nights ago we had one of those moments that, as parents, you wonder if they’ll ever come.
On Monday night all three children ate rabbit for dinner. Two of them requested more quinoa, and the one who refused quinoa ate double helpings of the spinach/pear/feta salad.
For dessert they all ate double helpings of spice-cake muffins sprinkled with powdered sugar, requesting the leftovers for breakfast; and those were held together with broccoli and carrot purees.
This came after a pancake victory last week where a buckwheat-heavy recipe was eagerly consumed and declared *delicious* by the entire family (when a year ago buckwheat was too strong for anybody but me).
It’s times like these when I feel a huge relief: we really are changing, growing, transforming our tastes and habits.
We may be slow, but persistence really seems to mean something in real life.