Just when you feel like you've got this parenting thing down, like you can handle it, you are actually really good at it- everything changes, and you are back to thinking, how am I ever going to survive? Isaiah and I are in a daily battle these days over highchair territory. They say as a baby approaches his first birthday, he may eat less, and sometimes not want to eat at all. This is normal, they say. A child will eat when he's hungry, they say. Don't force them to eat, they say. Yeah right! What normal parent won't try and persuade their child to eat? It's just human nature to want to feed, and mother nature to want to nourish your growing baby. Dave and I have both been infected with what I call the "One more bite" syndrome. Why do we do this? Why do we obsess over how many bites of food he's had. Why does it make us feel SOOO much better when Isaiah takes that one more bite? Well, it feels better for about 2 seconds because even after the "last bite" you get infected with the one more bite syndrome again! Like that one dime sized bite is going to make all the difference in the world! As if without that ONE LAST BITE will be the difference between nourishment and starvation!
Lately EVERY meal is a struggle. Things Isaiah used to LOVE, he now turns his head away from as if I were trying to feed him bugs. So, here's how it goes. I work really hard to make him something different, soft enough, organic, healthy, but tasty. After slaving away- I sit him in his chair, and I am armed and ready with my artillery of tools. I have 2 spoons and 2 forks. Because Isaiah wants to use his own spoon and his own fork, and if I don't have 2 spoons and 2 forks he will take the ones I am using and not want to give them back. I have a picture book with pictures of his family for distr
action purposes. I put on his bib- as if this is going to help.
First bite, Isaiah turns his head. Defeat.
I say something funny (like Bibbity bobbity BOO!)- Isaiah laughs and while his mouth is open, I shove a spoonful in. Victory!
Isaiah opens his mouth and lets all the food fall out into his lap. Defeat.
I put some of the food on Isaiah's tray so he can feed himself.
Isaiah picks up a piece of chicken. Victory!
He puts it in his mouth. Victory!
He pulls it out of his mouth. Defeat.
He puts it back in. Victory!
He eats a few more bites of chicken, pasta and a green pea or two. He uses his fork and picks up some pasta and puts it in his mouth. VICTORY!
He starts putting his chubby grubby hands on his head and smearing food in his hair. There is chicken and broccoli in his hair. Defeat.
Then he stops and squirms. He tries to turn around in his high chair.
He drops his spoon and won't even look at me until I pick it up. I pick it up. He drops his fork. I pick it up. He drops some chicken on the floor. Oscar and Mayer pick it up. Defeat. Defeat. Victory for the dogs. I let the dogs outside.
I plead with him, just a few more bites!
People are starving all over the world and you are throwing this food away, I say. I realize he's a little young to understand World Hunger and these are not good reasoning skills for a 1 year old.
I bring out the picture book. Look Isaiah! Where's Ama? Where's Grandpa?
As he's distracted, I put another bite into his mouth. Victory!
The next bite he spits out, with a disgusted look on his face. Defeat.
He takes the bowl out of my hands and dumps it on his head. Defeat.
He laughs. Then he says HAT.
I try not to laugh. But it’s funny.
15 minutes later and only 6 bites of food total, I am making Isaiah something different. Defeat.
I tear the grilled cheese, spinach & tomato sandwich into pieces. Isaiah is intrigued. He takes one bite. He likes it! Victory!
Isaiah takes a few bites here and there while looking at his picture book. Victory.
Happy with my boy finally eating I wash the dishes while he eats.
I feed him his yogurt. Victory!
He sticks his hands in the yogurt and "draws" with it on his tray. I don't care as long as he is eating most of it. He finishes the yogurt. Victory!
I pick him up, take him to the sink to wash is hands, face and hair.
I go to wipe the highchair down and find half of the sandwich pieces in his highchair. DEFEAT.
I pull of the cover and brush it off outside. Victory to the dogs.
GOOD TIMES.
