We have an emotional eater.

Ever since we started sitting him in the high chair to join us for meals, something about mealtime seemed to trigger big feelings. It didn’t always make sense at first, but it was clear that the table held more than just food for him.

Meal time isn’t the only place where strong emotions show up. This child feels things deeply. He’s easily set off and tends to explode if he isn’t met with calm, positive responses. Thankfully, it has gotten better with age—but the other night reminded me how quickly things can unravel.

He had already had a stressful day at school. He was hungry. He was irritated. And then dinner hit the table. One look and he said, “I don’t like anything on the table! You know I don’t like beans! I hate taco night!”

I could tell he didn’t even want to come to the table. There was nothing there inviting him in. It didn’t feel safe. Even though I knew he would eat the tortillas and the cashew cheese sauce, the bean salad and squash made the whole meal feel too intimidating for him to even try.

A few years ago, I probably would have responded with, “That’s too bad. This is what we’re having. Take it or leave it.” Honestly, part of me wanted to say that. I had put effort into making a nice meal, and it hurt to feel rejected before we even sat down.

But instead, I paused. I noticed his distress. I took a few deep breaths and gave myself a moment to think about how I could offer a simple solution without dismissing how he was feeling. I knew he didn’t like beans mixed into the main taco filling—but he usually enjoys refried beans. I keep cans on hand for quick backups.

I asked him if he’d like to open a can of refried beans to add to the table. His eyes lit up. His shoulders relaxed. He eagerly grabbed the beans, I helped with the can opener, and suddenly he was ready—excited, even—to invite everyone else to the table.

One simple ingredient changed everything.

That small adjustment diffused a tantrum and shifted the mood of our entire meal. If I had ignored how he was feeling and forced him to sit at the table just because “that’s the rule,” the evening would have looked very different. There likely would have been yelling, tears, and tension thick enough to feel.

Instead, I chose to listen, notice, and respond. He felt heard. He felt cared about. And his nervous system moved out of fight-or-flight and into a place where he could actually enjoy being with us—and eat.

Have you ever been in a situation like this?

Maybe it didn’t go so well. Maybe afterward you replayed it in your head, wondering what could have made it better. I didn’t get to this point overnight. Learning how to settle mealtime conflicts calmly has been a long process.

I wish I had had someone early on to help me recognize what was really causing our mealtime stress—and how I could respond in ways that created peace instead of dread around the table.

That’s one of the reasons I now help families find more calm at mealtimes through coaching.

You want your child to be happy and fed. You’re willing to put in the effort. And yet, you might feel exhausted trying to please everyone or stuck making multiple meals night after night. It doesn’t have to be that way. Often, it’s not about changing everything—it’s about understanding what’s happening before the meal even begins.

Sometimes, having someone outside the moment simply listen and help you see a gentler path forward can make all the difference.

If that sounds like something you need, I’d love to be that listening ear. You’re welcome to book a free consultation call and share what your mealtimes feel like right now. We can talk through it together and find a way toward more peaceful meals.