Feeding him is a headache


I have grown up with the knowledge that human beings have three basic needs, food, clothing, and shelter. As a parent, I know instinctively that this is the bare minimum I must strive to provide for my offspring. After acquiring the three, getting my young one to utilize and appreciate them is kind of challenging. Ok. Not the shelter so much, though he mostly prefers the outdoors. However, putting clothes on him counts as a workout these days. Feeding him has me in the market for a hazmat suit (thank you New Yorker cartoon for this suggestion) and summoning all my patience convincing myself that he will eventually get it, food is for his own benefit.

I am ready for my top chef moment. The effort I have put in and the results I have obtained in the name of making food for my offspring are nothing short of amazing and laudable. If it appears that I am blowing my own horn, its because I am. Loudly and proudly telling those of you reading this. I must because this little human being that makes me scour the internet for exciting ways to bring flavor to his food while sticking to the recommendations given by his pediatrician does not always seem to appreciate all the work I put in. My word! Children can be ungrateful!!

In my entire life, the eons, and eons I have existed on this earth, I never thought that I would ever have to prepare non-bland meals without using salt or sugar. Plus, my cooking skills on most days stagger towards the less than mediocre side with my creativity in the kitchen coming to life maybe twice a year at most. So, for me to say that I have actively, and consciously been creative enough in that space to produce meals that adults go crazy over is nothing short of astounding. To have my baby look at the food and turn his head even without tasting is a major slap in the face. At times you will have to sneak it in his mouth for tasting and maybe just maybe he will proceed to have a few more spoons. If the stars happen to align in a certain way and the full moon is out, he may even surprise you by eating more than you would expect.

I have told you here that I am known to be a fussy eater. My mother really suffered to get me to eat in my earlier years. She tried pleading, forcing, rewards, punishment and whatever other tools were at her disposal. Still, I gave her a hell of a time. So perhaps its karma that has come knocking and I am getting payback for the difficult times I put my mother through. Or maybe just maybe, it is a phase and it will pass and he will realize that I do not need the extra weight I may gain from finishing his food because I do not want to waste it, and it tastes so good.

At least he feeds a bit better when his nanny feeds him, followed by when his dad does it. I do not know if it is the smell of breast milk that makes it such a daunting task when I try to feed him. My momma did not raise a quitter though, I will keep on persisting in the hope that the days that he eats well with me will become a norm. Until then, I am crossing my fingers and toes and wishing on a shooting star that this period ends soon.

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