Little Man has enjoyed his addictions: puffs, stick cheese, cereal bars, and yogurt. Puffs weren't an issue. He got them after he ate and let's face it, he was too young to demand them. The stick cheese wasn't much of a problem. It was a snack or part of his overall meal, not his whole meal. Cereal bars were starting to become an issue. He would want 3 in a row and then not eat the next meal. I learned to distract after one and met with some success.
Yogurt is his latest addiction. The cereal bars seem to be waning a bit but the yogurt? We are talking the need for a hardcore intervention. He will eat 3 in a row if allowed at snack time and then 3 more for a meal. He may throw in a cereal bar for good measure and always a glass of milk.
Previous addictions never showed a sign of affecting his nutritional health but this latest addiction is straddling the line if not 10 yards past. He will have full blown meltdowns when told no. His screams are speeding up my hearing loss at an exponential rate.
So I spent an hour on the phone with the advice nurse at his Ped's office today. Hey, it had been awhile since she and I had talked. She was going through withdrawal (actually, she was looking for an escape from the endless, repetitive flu questions she was getting all week). I love this woman. She has been so incredibly patient with silly FTM me and her parenting philosophy is in line with my own. So she had no problem (gently) telling me that yes, I was screwing up.
See, this is why I love her. She is the only person with the balls to tell me that I am screwing up with my son, that I am making mistakes. That is exactly what I need to hear and honestly, what I wanted to hear. I needed a big ole kick in the ass and she gave it to me.
Guess what? My son is playing me. The boy is in complete and utter control when it comes to food. I know, shocking. You didn't see that one coming either did you? Floored the shit out of me, let me tell ya. (and if you can't read the dripping sarcasm in all of this...)
So I listened to the nurse's advice and decided to put it into play tonight. No snack before dinner and he's told what is on the table is what is for dinner. Let him meltdown. He'll learn.
We arrive home and our neighbors are outside playing (gorgeous Indian summer weather I bow to you). We go straight to play time. Little Man never sees the inside of the house. My neighbor watches him close to dinner time while I go in and hide the cereal bars, goldfish, smiley faces and all but one yogurt (he is now only allowed one a day). At 6 I take him in to make dinner. He goes to the fridge. I offer milk. He says no. He doesn't see any yogurt so he moves on to the cabinet. I open it. No snacks. Ask him if he'll help make dinner. Distraction #1 - success! We start cooking the sausage when I hit my first snag. There is a mini bag of pretzels on the counter. Damn it! I missed one! Little Man is struggling to open it. I tell him he can have a few and that's it because mommy is making dinner. He eats 3 and puts the bag down. SUCCESS! I'm trying not to whip out my pom poms to celebrate.
While the sausage is cooking, I take him into the living room to play. Distraction #2 - success. Damn I am good.
Check the sausage. Needs about 10 more minutes. Let's get the dining room ready for dinner. His booster seat is on the floor (story for another time). I have to put him down to attach it to the chair. Meltdown mode initiated.
I tell him he is fine and hook up the booster. Meltdown continuing. Nurse's voice enters my head "he'll melt down. Let him". I walk into the kitchen, ignoring him. I continue getting dinner ready. His screams would burst my ear drums if he was in the same room. After what felt like an eternity but I don't think was a full 10 minutes, he makes his way to the kitchen. By this time, I am 99% ready to put plates on the table. I half acknowledge him. He holds up his socks. I tell him as soon as I put him in his chair, I will put them on. Dinner is plated and ready to go. Pick the poor guy up and let him cry on my shoulder for a few seconds. He looks at me, pathetically, and I ask if he is ready for dinner.
"Dup"
Will you carry your milk for mommy"
"Dup"
Put food on table. Put milk on table. Put child in booster seat and socks on feet. Grab my plate. Walk back into the dining room and he is attacking his plate. He ate an entire sausage link and two servings of rice pilaf with veggies. We sat at the table, swayed to the music and talked in between bites. Ok, I talked in between bites. He still hasn't learned not to talk with his mouth full but one thing at a time here people.
He and I finish dinner at the same time. This is amazing. We had a GREAT meal together and he wasn't begging to get down 3 minutes into it and then hounding me to go play with him. He even lets me clean up the table.
While I am putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, he comes to drag me away. I figure it is time to play. Nope. Straight to the pantry door which I discovered, he can now open without assistance (time to reorganize that). He points to the strawberry applesauce and proceeds to down almost 2 of them.
I know tomorrow night could be the complete opposite. I know this is probably beginner's luck but allow me to celebrate my success tonight. For this one night, I am thrilled. Tomorrow I may lament but tonight the Sam I drink is in celebration. Tonight, I was in control.
Tune in tomorrow night for mama's slide back into subservient yogurt wench.
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