In addition to the plastic bottle conspiracy, there’s another
product designed for feeding children I simply don’t understand: the plastic
knife. First of all, what need does your fourteen-month-old have of a knife?
They can barely find their face when trying to eat, do they really have the motor
skills to use any utensil, much less two as we expect them to hold their food
down with their fork and slice it with their knife? Also, what are they needing
to cut up anyway? “Here’s your lunch junior, now make sure you cut up your
oatmeal and mashed avocado into small bites!” There’s really no reason for any
little kid to have a knife, unless of course you are trying to encourage
mutiny. And if you have ever met a two-year-old you know that the last thing a
toddler needs is any encouragement to be mutinous. That comes quite naturally to those little terrorists.
(Maybe it’s because we feed them stuff like oatmeal mixed with avocado …)
But here’s my biggest issue with the plastic knife: it’s completely
useless. They make them out of this soft, almost rubbery plastic so the utensil
doesn’t even hold its shape. Even if it did hold it’s shape, the knives are blunted
and rounded on every side so there isn’t an edge to cut anything anyway (except
maybe the avocado mixture). So, let’s pretend your little virtuoso has the superior
motor skills and dexterity to use such a tool; the knife can’t cut anything
anyway because it has to be “safe.” The only thing the knife can possibly be
used for is as a makeshift catapult to fling food across the room (an option which
my kids have often selected). In an effort to make the knife “safe,” the child
utensil manufacturers have completely eliminated the effectiveness of the tool.
All too often, we make the same trade ourselves and accept “safe”
in place of effective. To be truly effective and impactful, we must challenge
ourselves. We must put ourselves out there and become exposed to ridicule, failure
and rejection. It is necessary to leave behind what we know and step into the unknown.
We must be vulnerable. None of this is safe, but it is essential to be
effective. If we fail to allow the hardships and challenges of life to sharpen
us, we end up like the toddler’s knife, soft and dull. In that way, choosing “safe,”
may be the riskiest path indeed.
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