I have this belief (one of many, actually) that as we get older we are more accepting of our own quirks and faults, but less tolerant of others'.

I have exemplified this many times: When I finally bought myself a subscription to People magazine, fully aware that it was shallow and silly, but that I simply enjoyed reading it too much to go without or that my total refusal to wear sunscreen might not be the best decision, health-wise. I broke through yet another layer of denial last week, and this one was a biggie, but it helps me be a teeny tiny bit of a more tolerant mommy than I might be without this annoying trait.

The set-up: dinner at my parent's house. Discussion: upcoming beach trip and dinner meal-planning. After ix-naying perfectly because of some tiny "fault" like the fact that I won't eat rare tuna steaks because I hate the texture even thought I am fully aware of how much better it is to be all pink marshmallow in the middle and not rawhide-bone-tough, my father finally said, "It is rather difficult doing this with you because you are a picky eater."

Of course, I tried to defend myself, "We're ALL picky eaters!" And he retorted, "but some of us are more picky than others."

After years of denial, I owned up to it. Yes. I am a picky eater. I hate whole families of foods based on texture alone. I will not eat cheese unless it is resting on something crunchy, because I find the sensation of my teeth sinking into it icky. And on and on.

And so, Flipper's picky eating doesn't bother me in the least. I don't know that I would even classify her as a picky eater...remember? We're ALL picky eaters. Unless you are her father. There is literally nothing in this world he won't eat if he's hungry.

I used to stress about Flipper's diet, worried that it wasn't green enough, colorful enough, organic enough. I would seethe with anger as I tossed out the mango that she loved at the playground, but refused to eat at home. Note: I wouldn't eat it because mango is...you guessed it: mushy. My teeth would sink into it!! Must..not..have...teeth..sinking!!

And then I just...got over it. I dropped my act of pretending that she was some sort of blank slate for me to write upon, i.e. "make perfect" and accepted that along with a love of swimming, she might just have more of my taste buds in her mouth than she has of her dad's.

When we eat at someone else's house, I tell them to never cater a meal to Flipper's pickiness. She will either eat or not. And most of the time, she does a really good job. She is obviously quite healthy, at the risk of jinxing myself four days before we go to the beach, this is a kid that hasn't been sick since February. Not even a sniffly nose.

So I must be doing something right. Maybe she'll outgrow it. Maybe she'll reach adulthood like me: healthy, loves food, but still ... picky. And maybe we can share something crunchy... and a fresh issue of People.

Flipper "BP" - Before Picky 

Leigh appears every Monday on TriangleMom2Mom. Read more about Leigh at her blog Flipper and Me.