I ate a lot of mochi this morning. With the boys' spoons and forks, from their bowls. Mostly Kenzo's. He was being picky again and decided being hungry all morning was better than eating anko and natto mochi. He ate and drank most of his zoni, probably because it was full of fish eggs and the mochi is softer due to being submerged in warm soup.
Osamu hemmed and hawed, but with my help he consumed all of his natto mochi and zoni. I finished his anko mochi. It was delicious.
So I left the house feeling pretty full and energetic. Mochi has a way of sticking to your insides and making you not feel like eating anything for a while. It's like cream of wheat mixed with plaster of paris. And you eat it.
I had some talks with the boys, again, about eating their meals. It's not about liking food. It's about getting nutrients to grow big and remembering and respecting that mama worked very hard to make the meal. I'm not being difficult about it (yet), but I am softly promoting the idea that having likes and dislikes when it comes to food sets you up for a hard life. It also supports that way of thinking where you have to have things a certain way to be happy. That is how you become unhappy. Mochi is delicious, in spite of my plaster of paris comparison. Anko is also amazing, in spite of my American-ness.
When you can go anywhere, eat anything, experience whatever comes at you and you don't have to check your list of stuff that doesn't agree with your palate you open yourself up to so much more of what the world has to offer.
Kenzo and Osamu had donuts at Aoma Jinja this morning when we went for a new year Shinto-style blessing.
Later in the day we flew kites in the park and played soccer in the street in front of our house.
Kenzo was kinda picky again at dinner, but no one was giving him any sympathy because Eri's special new year okonomiyaki was unbelievably delicious. Mine was huge. Hit the spot, especially since I skipped lunch after eating so much mochi for breakfast.
❤️
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