I think my daycare provider is a witch. I've thought about it and thought about it and there can be no other explanation.
To say my three-year-old is a picky eater is being generous. Although she isn't to the point where she only eats blue foods or McRib sandwiches, she certainly isn't an adventurous eater. I did everything I was supposed to - started her on solids at six months by following Baby Led Weaning guidelines. No juice until she was two years old and only on special occasions. She ate what we ate - no special meals prepared just for her. But somehow, she came to have a very narrow definition of acceptable foods. I don't think it's any different than most other toddlers, but she is not enjoying the lamb chops, quinoa or avocado popsicles of her babyhood.
Daycare, however, tells a different story.
"Oh, I never have any trouble with her eating," my provider tells me.
I start quizzing Agatha about what she has for lunch each day. Grilled cheese, goulash, barbecue sandwiches, pizza, corn, peas, apples, watermelon, pears. The list goes on. A lot of these things are on her "accepted food" list at home as well, but some of them are on the "negotiation" list. That entails me saying, "Try two more bites" throughout the meal until I'm satisfied with her miniscule food intake.
And it's not just food. I frequently show up to see Agatha putting toys away WITHOUT A FUSS.
At home, my requests for picking up are either ignored outright or surrendered to after various threats.
The one year old LAYS STILL and does not cry during diaper changes, I'm told.
Black magic, I tell you.