Got Milk? (or "kuh")

Before I start this ranting of sorts, let me preface with the fact that we went to the pediatrician this past week and Bryson is growing right on target.  He is still in the 90% percentile for height, and (who is surprised) his head circumference is also in the 90% range.  The most amazing fact is that his weight is in the 50%.  Given the fact that the only thing he is reliably eating these days is pineapple, oatmeal, hummus and milk- I think that is pretty remarkable.

I swore up and down that we would not let Bryson become the chicken nugget (or soy nugget in our case) and french fry addict that plagues so many kids today.  It just can’t be healthy for them to eat that every day.  My other declaration early on was that I will not prepare a special meal just for the baby.  He is going to be a part of this family, so he needs just go ahead and eat like us!  So there.  (nope, I’m not a type A personality or anything)  I’m not trying to be mean- I want Bryson to try different foods- and I recognize that he too can have foods he likes or dislikes.  I just want Bryson to develop good eating habits early on- and I am not interesting letting him determine the family menu for the next 18 years.

But, lately it is becoming a real challenge to stick to my guns.  Here is a typical conversation with little B these days.  “Let’s come to the table for dinner Bryson”  Thumping of feet as he runs away… followed by a series of screams and shrills as I attempt to put on his bib.  And then it’s the arching of the back and slamming of fists, with the occasional jab with his leg as I strap him in to his booster seat.    You would think this was torture.  “Bryson- how about this yummy banana?” Nooooo.  (in the most drawn-out southern accent you can think of)  “mmmm, tortellini??” (head shaking vigorous side to side)  “Cheese crackers?”  Baaah!  “Oh look, raisins!!!”  (which he touches to his tongue, then turns up his nose and carefully throws to the dogs…one-by-one, to each side so the dogs each get an equal amount). 

Now I am mad.  Why am I letting him waste all of this food?  And why is it so damn hard to convince this child to eat??  I am ashamed to say I have actually even tried to hold his hands down in order to give the food half a chance.  If I could just get it on his lips.  Once he tastes it he will like it, I rationalize.  And surely he is just starving.  Afterall, it’s been almost 30 hours since he ate anything other than a cup of pineapple and a few bites of oatmeal.   Then the little voice in my head starts up…  Ok wait a minute.  Take a step back mama.  Trying not to take the constant rejection of food personally.  He is just too busy to be bothered with eating.  Why can’t I have that problem, especially with cookies??  After chasing Bryson around with my last cup of apple sauce, I am resorting to stop.  When he is hungry, he will eat.  And eventually, he will eat the stuff we offer him.  And while it is still a fight to get him to sit in his booster for any amount of time, I think that is a fight worth fighting- at least for a few minutes.  That little bit of family time is frequently all we get for a couple of days at a time.  It is just too important to skip.

“OK Bryson, those are your choices…what will it be?”  “KUH” he says matter-of-factly as he flicks the last raisin onto the floor (which is Bryson talk for mil-kuh).  Fine. I. Give. Up.  Kuh it is.  Afterall, Bryson is about 99% made up of milk.  At least he will have strong bones.  And it is organic milk, for whatever that is worth.