Please help me welcome our guest blogger today, Laura from ManvsMommy. Thanks for stopping by. Take it away!
I used to think feeding Man was a challenge. I was very, very wrong.
From the very beginning Man was not the best eater. My doctor called him a “grazer” (What is he, a gazelle on the Serengeti?). One ounce here, a half an ounce there. I would longingly watch my friends breast- or bottle-feed their child a full 6 ounces in one feeding…while Man shoved the bottle away and squirmed to get off of me after having finished only 2 ounces. Of course, he’d scream bloody murder for another ounce only 30 minutes later.
Next came solids. Things improved a bit; he seemed to enjoy a wide variety of fruits and would gobble them down eagerly. Vegetables were not his favorite, but what kid wants to eat his vegetables? It seemed we were in the clear until one day, out of the blue, he decided he no longer wanted to be spoon-fed. Every meal would end the same; me, Man, the walls, the dog, and even the mailman, all covered in purée after he skillfully batted the spoon out of my hand a dozen or so times. I was defeated. Man was the winner yet again.
Finger foods provided some relief. For a time he would enjoy his meals as long as he could feed himself. I found an array of soft solids that he would eat and all was peaceful with the world once again…until now.
Man has recently decided that his high chair is an evil place full of negativity and hatred. Even as I carry him towards the chair he starts kicking and screaming. Every meal is the same: dropping the food over the side, then screaming, escalating to crying, and eventually somehow climbing out over the tray and attempting to jump down.
Initially I thought he just didn’t like the food until one day I found him under the high chair eating the same meal he had just thrown over the side (the dog happily sharing it with him). The next day I let him just stand next to the chair and I fed him while standing…
Success! Or was it? This was a bad precedent, and feeding him every meal this way did not seem like a good long-term solution…
And it wasn’t. He began to crawl away during meals while I’d chase him around the room with a sweet potato. Did he have somewhere more important to be? “Are you late for a special date, Man?”
This also provided easy access for our dog to share Man’s meals with him. I’m no germaphobe, but watching my dog lick her butt and then lick the remaining crumbs of grilled cheese off of Man’s face was just too much for even me.
This behavior has now affected Man’s ability to eat out at restaurants. He used to be a dream when dining out: the wait staff fascinated him, and he would look like a living bobble head doll as he watched the hustle and bustle. Friends and family would actually compliment us on how well behaved and patient he was.
Well, just the other day he actually slid out from under the safety straps and climbed right up onto the table. The teenage couple that was on a date next to us watched, mouths agape, as this little peanut of a Man got himself out of his chair and into the breadbasket. “He’s like birth control, huh?” I said to them.
Has anyone struggled with feeding issues out there? Come share your story with me. Click on the number at the top of the post and leave a comment.
Thanks, Laura! You can visit ManvsMommy at the following links:
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