There’s a unique kind of heartbreak reserved for moms who cook a toddler-approved meal, only to watch it be rejected like a failed audition on Indian Idol.
One minute she’s gobbling bhindi like it’s chips, the next she’s declaring an all-out hunger strike because the dal is “too yellow.”
If you’ve ever stared into a half-eaten roti and questioned your entire life, hi, I see you. I am you.
Feeding toddlers is not for the weak. It’s a game of psychology, strategy, and pure dumb luck.
But over time—and through much emotional damage—I figured out what actually worked (and what didn’t) with my tiny food critic.
So here it is, no frills, no filters—5 tricks that worked for us, and 3 that backfired spectacularly.
The 5 That Worked (Most of the Time, Anyway)
1. The “Illusion of Choice” Hack
Instead of asking “Do you want rice?”, I offer:
“Would you like rice with ghee or rice with dal?”
Both are rice. Both are getting eaten.
Or so I thought.
Because here’s the catch: sometimes she just says,
“No.”
No to rice, no to dal, no to life, no to me.
One time I gave her the prestigious choice between puri and paratha—two things she normally loves—and her response? A flat, stone-faced “No,” followed by dramatic sliding under the table.
But on better days, this trick works like a charm—she chooses one like a boss and even instructs me on plating.
Power makes toddlers hungry, apparently.
2. The Eat With Me, Copy Me Method
If I bring her plate for her to eat alone, she won’t touch it.
If I sit next to her with my plate in hand and take bites from her food and go “Mmm!” like I’m doing a review for a Michelin-starred restaurant, suddenly it’s a feast.
Then there are days when she snatches my food, sniffs it like it’s suspicious, and returns it with the verdict: “Yuck.” Thanks for the honesty, beta.
But that happens only sometimes.
Rest of the days, she wants what I’m eating—even if it’s exactly the same food.
Sometimes, she won’t touch her pretty sectioned “Peppa Pig” toddler plate but will happily eat from my sad adult steel plate.
And sometimes, just sometimes, it all pays off and she eats from her own plate, uses her own spoon, with her own two hands!
There’s something magical about eating together!
Is it the thrill of stealing? The drama of communal eating? No idea!
3. Serve It Tiny, Call It Fancy
Toddlers are weird.
Give them a whole sandwich—they look at it like you served them IKEA furniture. Cut that same sandwich into little triangles or heart shapes, and now it’s “Wow, Mama!”
Once, I cut sandwiches into stars, and she cleaned her plate. Another time, I made rotis with a cookie cutter shaped like the letter A (which she was learning that week), and she announced it was the “best dinner ever.”
But of course, she’s also turned down “butterfly parathas” with the kind of disdain usually reserved for burnt toast.
So, creativity is a gamble.
But one worth taking when you’ve already gone through a fridge full of vegetable purées and dashed dreams.
4. Keep Snacks Far, Far Away Before Mealtime
This one’s obvious in theory but life-changing in practice.
If she snacks too close to mealtime, the dinner plate might as well be invisible.
That one rogue banana or a handful of puffed rice ruins the entire meal plan.
Now I have a rule:
No snacks at least an hour before meals.
And when I stick to it, it really works—she comes to the table hungry, interested, and even (gasp!) excited about her food.
But sometimes… desperate times call for pre-meal bribes.
She’s teething, cranky, or I just need five minutes to finish making the last roti, and a biscuit sneaks in.
Those are the days when dinner is a joke and Bobi the cat gets gourmet leftovers.
5. Make Her the “Chef”
If she helps make it, she’s 75% more likely to eat it.
Her “help” might be stirring air, or tossing grated cheese like it’s Holi—but her sense of ownership is real.
Once, she sprinkled coriander on her own khichdi, called it “green magic rice,” and ate the whole bowl. Another time, she insisted we make a “pink soup” with beetroot (a veggie she usually hates), and because she helped stir, she actually drank it.
Does “help” mean she crushed a tomato and called it salad? Yes.
Does she take credit for the entire meal? Also yes.
But does she eat it? You bet she does!
And Now… the 3 That Bombed So Hard I Still Have Flashbacks
1. The “Just One Bite” Drama
Parenting books said, “Ask them to try just one bite. No pressure!”
So I did.
Her response? Loud wailing, full-body floor collapse, and “You are not my friend anymore!” yelled at max volume.
I was just trying to offer her a spoon of palak paneer. I didn’t know I was starting WWIII: The Greens Edition.
Lesson: Toddlers don’t do “just” anything. Especially not “just” bites of green food.
2. Covert Veggie Smuggling
I once grated beetroot into her paratha thinking I was clever. She took one look, sniffed it, and said, “This is not roti. This is purple.”
Then she peeled it apart like a food scientist, found the evidence, and handed it back.
Now everything I make is treated like it’s been smuggled through customs.
She has trust issues. I live with the guilt.
3. Bribery with Screen Time
I was weak. I told her, “Finish your food and I’ll put Peppa Pig.”
Not only did she not finish her food, but now she demands the screen first, and then negotiates food bites like a mafia don.
Screen time mealtime = instant regret.
That is, unless you enjoy being extorted by a three-year-old who speaks fluent YouTube.
Final Thoughts from the High Chair War Zone
Here’s the truth no one tells you:
Toddlers won’t starve themselves.
They eat when they’re hungry.
They stop when they’re full.
And they will play dramatic mind games just because they can.
All we can do is offer good food, keep the pressure low, and trust that one day, they’ll stop flinging carrots across the room and start asking for seconds.
Until then, I’ll be over here, eating rejected roti crusts and wondering if Bobi the cat is secretly living his best life on this toddler diet.
Got your own mealtime hacks, bribes, or rejected recipes?
Drop them in the comments—I need the solidarity, and possibly your grandma’s secret toddler-approved sabzi recipe.
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