i don’t want to boast but i think it’s only fair to say that i’m winning in the food war against my one-year-old. turned out, the reason why roque wouldn’t eat during meal times was because we’ve been stuffing him with milk!
in the early food war days, his average daily food schedule went something like:
6am – 5oz milk
8am – breakfast
10am – 5oz milk
12nn – lunch
1pm – 5oz milk
3pm – snack
5pm – 5oz milk
7pm – dinner
9pm -5oz milk
that’s a lot of milk, i know. no wonder the kid didn’t have room for solids. he probably thought i was crazy whenever i tried shoving food into his mouth. we got the go-ahead from his pedia to lessen his milk intake and justlikethat the kid started eating solids like crazy. like crazy, i tell you.
this is how we divide up his days now, food-wise:
6am – 6oz milk
9am – breakfast
12nn – lunch
1pm – 6oz milk
4pm – snack
7pm – dinner
9pm – 6oz milk
the longer breaks in between meals (milk or solids) really made a huge difference. where i used to employ any and all tips and tricks i could think of just to get him to eat, now, i can’t get the spoon reloaded and into his mouth fast enough. often, while readying the next spoonful, i would feel a little hand tapping my arm impatiently and look up to an eagerly open, empty little mouth. it’s been almost a month of happy eating and roque’s cheeks have already gotten fatter, like a chipmunk’s with a mouthful of nuts.
now you know it can’t be all good, and this is the part where i warn you that poop will be discussed.
the downside to my victory is that he’s had toddler’s diarrhea since a few days after we changed his diet. it’s actually gotten better now, but there were days when we had to wash and change him *every* *fucking* *hour* (the only silver lining in this cloud was that those days coincided with his diaper brand going on sale, so heart attacks over how much all this pooping was starting to cost were avoided).
it’s hard not to worry when your toddler poops at least four times a day everyday but i’m doing my best because everybody (and by that i mean his pedia and people on the internet, collectively) says toddler’s diarrhea is normal and it’s supposed to clear up on its own. also, roque’s as happy and energetic as usual, which does a lot to quiet my fears.
on second thought, abundance of poop or not, for this round, i think everybody wins.
‘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.