5 The Magic of Corn Rice | Until My Child Starts Eating

Series: "Until My Child Starts Eating"
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Moving past the white rice-only phase

My daughter, as always, would only eat plain white rice. She wouldn't even glance at the side dishes, and she would immediately close her mouth if I offered mixed rice. Even so, I faced my daughter's meals every day, little by little, while trying to keep my own spirits up.

That day, too, was just like any other morning.

I woke up just a little bit earlier that morning, and as I stood in the kitchen, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

That's it, I'll make corn rice.

It didn't have any special meaning. It was just that I had bought some corn the day before, it was in the refrigerator, and I thought, "I'd like to eat that for a change."

I peeled the husk and gently removed the kernels. Each kernel was glossy, and I could feel the freshness just by touching them.
"Well, if she doesn't eat it, I will."
With that lighthearted feeling, I set it in the rice cooker with the rice. I added a pinch of salt, pressed the switch, and...

When it finished cooking, the steam rose to reveal a gentle color—the usual white rice mixed with yellow kernels. I remember feeling a little excited myself by the sweet scent of corn that filled the kitchen.

As I served the corn rice onto my daughter's plate, I had a feeling in my heart that was half-resigned, thinking, "She'll probably reject it based on looks again today."
It had a faint color. There were kernels mixed in. Just because of that, she had refused to put it in her mouth so many times before.

Even so, today, I scooped a bite onto a spoon and offered it to her, saying, "Open wide."

My daughter stared at the rice, and then—
Without hesitation, she took a bite.

"...Did she eat it?"

I froze in surprise.
My daughter chewed, swallowed, and stared at the next bite. Her expression was serious, but it also looked somewhat happy. I felt a warmth spread deep inside my chest.

When I asked, "Is it good?" she looked back at me and gave a small nod.
I was so happy that I kept saying, "That's amazing," and "You were able to eat it," over and over.

That day, my daughter ate the corn rice—not the white rice—firmly and of her own volition.
It was a small, but certain step forward.

Of course, that didn't mean she was suddenly able to eat everything right after that.
There were still days when she turned her face away from side dishes, and days when she didn't eat a single bite.

However, that morning when she ate the corn rice remained quietly within me as a "memory of hope."
It was just one bite. But to think that one bite could make my heart feel so much lighter.
Just having the fact that "she ate it yesterday" made today feel a little kinder. I experienced that feeling.

From then on, I started to remember the "days she was able to eat" more than the "days she didn't."
My daughter is moving forward at her own pace.
I decided to believe that and just be by her side.

The same old dining table, where nothing has changed.
But that morning with the corn rice was, without a doubt, a special time.

Perhaps what the corn rice taught me was the joy of adding one more "like" to her list, and how to cultivate a "gaze" that watches over her quietly.

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Next time, I would like to write about the pumpkin rice I tried after the corn rice.
I had a little bit of hope that they might eat it, but... well, how did it go?