July 6, 2014
Today my child ate: half a chocolate chip pancake, two pieces of bacon, seven pretzels, a spoonful of Cool Whip, three pieces of bowtie pasta, a few bites of mashed potatoes, and a tiny piece of chicken that I hid in the mashed potatoes.
I hate days like this.
My mom always said that kids go through eating stages. They’ll eat and eat and eat and then they’ll grow and while they’re growing they’ll stop eating. I’m pretty sure she’s right. I love the eating periods. I love seeing Ally clean her plate, hearing her ask for “mo!” as she points to her hand the way her school taught her to sign.
But then we get to the growing phase and it drives me crazy. I end up making her two or three meals for every meal, hoping to find the magic food that she’ll gobble up. I say “take a bite” and “try it” dozens of times at each meal and eventually resort to something like: “two more bites and you can be all done…okay, just one bite and you can go play…how about just this tiny speck of food…will you at least lick the dip off that French fry?”
Ketchup is like a vegetable, right?