food warsPosted: May 3, 2014
‘aaa.’, i told roque, a spoonful of warm oatmeal poised to enter his mouth.
‘EHH!’, he answered back with an impatient dismissive wave of his hand, then turned his face away for good measure, just in case his message was unclear. bloodcurling screams ensued when i insisted.
more and more, this was how our meal times went: me cajoling, entertaining, tricking, pleading with him to eat, and him refusing. each meal ended with me either triumphant but exhausted from my for-roque-only-one-woman-show or exhausted *and* frustrated, his food practically untouched.
I’m not sure when my good eater became this exasperating little tyrant, but I’m feeling more and more helpless, and less and less a good mother, with each bowlful that goes uneaten.
just let him go hungry, my husband says, he’ll eat more at the next meal.
but i can’t.
i can’t not do everything i can short of clamping his mouth open and shoving food in (i admit i’d probably do that if i found a way to) because the thought of my son not getting enough nutrients drives me completely batty.
there’s nothing roque does that gets to me quite like not eating his food can, and, believe me, he’s been a whirlwind of naughty activity ever since he learned to walk.
he grabs and drops my phone. he toddles off with the box where i keep my rolls of thread, scattering them in his wake. he insists on investigating electric sockets. he opens and closes random cabinet doors. he wraps his little hand around my finger, tugs and tugs, and if i refuse to let myself be dragged to wherever he wants to bring me, well, the whole building floor becomes privy to fits of screaming so passionate you would think i announced he couldn’t have ice cream for the rest of his life.
the kid guzzles 25 ounces of milk a day and is hardly emaciated, so I’m not sure exactly why i think his brain cells would stop developing if he missed a couple of meals, but I’m a new mother and therefore exempted from the rules of logic.
i try. at the start of every meal i would take a deep breath and pray for patience and the ability to let go. but by the fifth spoonful i could feel my temper rising and all i want is to shakeshakeshake him until he eats. the fact that i don’t counts as a small victory.
what i don’t understand is why he won’t eat. it’s not like i stuff him with snacks and ruin his appetite, and he can’t not like the taste of every single thing i give him. he used to be such an enthusiastic eater, mouth eagerly open, happily gumming whatever surprise his spoon held, then suddenly, inexplicably, ‘EHH!’
today. screamy toddler – 1, exasperated mommy – 0.