Meet Leo

Leo, practicing for being Widow Twankey

This is Leo. He is 2.

Leo only eats pasta.

Mummy is worried that Leo will turn into one of those people who need psychological help to overcome food phobias, and goes on channel 4 because everyone wants to be famous, and vomits every time a piece of cucumber touches his lips.

Let's be honest. Mummy probably just needs to get over herself and stop worrying, because kids are quite good at organising their own diets thank you very much, without any help whatsoever from boring grown-ups. However, mummy feels strongly that she needs to make sure that her darling boy grows up without a serious vitamin and mineral deficiency, because mummy is a classic middle class worrier and would hate it if the other boys on the future rugby team laughed at her son because his legs were wonky and he broke in two every time he was tackled. See, I told you she is a worrier. And middle class.

So therefore mummy has made it her life's mission to squeeze some good food in there somehow, even if it kills her in the process. Well done mummy.

I also have a daughter who has made it to 9 without wonky legs, poor eyesight or snapping in two. She was a fussy eater and lived most of her formative years on a diet of Philadelphia sandwiches, cheesy beany pasta and yoghurt. But she also ate lots fruit, prawns, avocado and Vegemite sandwiches (she did a lot of growing up in New Zealand).  Also 'fairy bread' (Google this, please. I nearly had heart failure when her Kiwi nursery thought this was an appropriate snack for a 2 year old) and strange red sausages.  But that's life sometimes.  When in Rome, etc.

The boy? Not so much.

Fruit? No. Unless it's strawberries, and one feels like it, and it's a full moon, and one has slept well, and is wearing the correct bib, and you, mother, YOU, have removed just the right amount of hull, and they're not too cold, or not too warm, and definitely NOT TOUCHING EACH OTHER, and most definitely not if one has already taken a nibble of that one.

Chicken?  By Holy Jeezy Chreezy mother, are you trying to POISON one?

Roast dinner?  ROAST DINNER? There are no words to describe the horror... Mother, leave me be, one would rather eat the contents of one's own nappy.  Actually pass me a Yorkshire pudding. NO NO THAT ONE!  I only eat the crunchy ones, for God's sake.  NO NOT THAT ONE EITHER!  Do you know nothing about small boys?

I'm sure you've been there too, unless you're my mother-in-law, who's two sons literally devoured everything in sight (and still do), and helpfully reminds me of that fact frequently. Yup.  Thanks.

So I'm trying to get together some recipes and tips for sneakily making my boy grow up tall and strong, and most definitely unlikely to snap in half.

I work as a chemistry teacher in a sixth form college, so all of my ideas need to be quick, easy and shoppable from Tesco online in a hurry. As a proper science nerd, I am also fantastically boring about nutritional content, so I'll be putting in a piece at the end of each post telling all about the good stuff.  I hope you enjoy reading them, and maybe try out a few for yourself.

I wish us luck.  And hope my beloved mother-in-law forgives me for that earlier comment.  I do love her very much and value her advice extremely.  She is also an incredible cook and a wonderful, warm, sweet, kind person.  Pretty perfect really, best MIL ever.

Too much?  Time to stop digging, methinks...