Bean has been having regular solid foods twice a day (at least) for the past six weeks. By now, I expected things to be much smoother. Everyone said, “Just give him time, just give him time.” So, I gave him time. Six weeks of time. And not a darn thing has changed.
The kid hates food.
I mean, I’ve tried everything. Homemade baby food, pieces of my food, jarred baby food, frozen, warm, with a spoon, without a spoon, in a high chair, out of a high chair, at different times of day. We’ve eaten fruits, veggies, meat, sweet, savory. Nothing seems to matter. Its the same result every time.
And if by some miracle there isn’t an actual meltdown, there is the open-mouth. I’ve seen him eat things. I know he knows how to do it. But when I try to feed him actual food and he doesn’t want to eat it, he just sits there with his mouth open, until the food slides out.
Oh, Lordy, how it frustrates me. But I try not to get frustrated. I sing and talk and distract him until I am just as irritated as he is and then I sing out, “ALL DONE!” and I go have a drink.
I try not to push him to the point where he’s really upset at meal time. I want him to think its a positive experience. I want him to enjoy it.
WE’RE HAVING FUN, DAMMIT!!!
But Bean knows I’m lying. He knows we’re not having fun. In fact, I’m convinced that he does the open-mouth thing as a way to entertain himself because mealtimes are just that un-entertaining. I know this because when I do manage to get something in his mouth, and he sits with his mouth open and the food starts sliding out, he laughs like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen.
Yeah, Bean. You’re freaking hilarious.
And I know what you’re thinking. “Don’t laugh! You’ll just encourage him!” and that might be true. But at this point in the game, its either laugh or pick up a handful of peas and chunk it at him. And since I’m pretty sure child protective services has something against throwing food at your child, I’m left with laughing out of frustration.
Under normal circumstances, I would just give up. I’m a quitter. What can I say? But seeing as to how a human life depends on my not giving up in this instance, I’m left to continue on. I can tell he’s getting hungrier for something more than just his bottles and I know that at any time now, he’s going to have to just get it and when that time comes, you can bet I’ll be there with my rubber spoon and face guard.
But for now, I’m woman enough to admit it that Bean is winning this battle. But I’ll be damned if he’s going to win the war.
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