4. Cereal Wars

Can anyone explain the insanity of a toddler's taste buds to me? I don't offer a vast plethora of dietary options to my toddler. She has similar choices each day, but the hysteria that accompanies the spoon coming towards her as though it were some form of mutant fish head soup really does get to me. I feel a type of rage that is probably irrational, but I am constantly afraid that my child isn’t getting enough calories in her body. My granny was a born and bred Lebanese feeder. Think “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” - you know the moms and aunts who just feed and feed and feed and feed? Well, that was my granny. That seems to have passed along to me when it comes to feeding Nevaeh. Even though she is growing well, I'm still paranoid that she might lose weight and that causes deep terror in my soul. And so we fight. Every single day. 

I have become a theatre singer and dancer -even though I really don't like the theatre - all in a desperate attempt to amuse my child long enough to shovel some form of proper food into her mouth. Dr Khan and I have lamented together about our offspring's disdain for regular eating habits and we have dubbed it the "Cereal Wars". Some days she loves Cerelac and can't get enough of it. Other days when that exact same cereal, same bowl, same spoon comes towards her, she gags, chokes and sometimes even vomits. Can someone please tell me why this is? Why will Nevaeh happily eat oven-baked sweet potato chips at a friend's house, but heaves at the exact same meal at our house? Is it because my friend has some special power that causes hunger to miraculously overtake the gag reflex that seems prevalent when I attempt to feed the child? Is it because she has a cat that Nevaeh loves and wants to show off to? What is the reason? I'm open to any suggestions here. The one thing I can rely on is yogurt. But not just any yogurt. It has to be the Woolworths double cream pear and rhubarb one. God forbid I dare bring the child strawberry or some other regular flavour. 

I would be lying if I said I handle the pressure of needing to feed this small human with grace. I don't. It is a daily stress. Each day I wake up, usually by being poked in the eye or having a finger shoved up my nose, and I think, "Maybe today she will consent to eating without a fight. Maybe today she will decide that she actually loves cereal or toast." Then we go into the lounge and begin the song and dance routine. On the odd day that she does eat with ease, I text my husband with intense excitement to report that we have conquered! I feel like there should be a full marching band in my lounge playing "We are the Champions" when this sort of victory takes place. Cherie (my baby clinic nurse) has told me repeatedly that I really cannot force feed Nevaeh. I have a rule that I have to obey Cherie, and so even though every instinct I have screams "Hold her down and shove it in", I don't. Because I am obedient. 

Sometimes I cry when it's been one of those days where I feel like the world's worst mom. Sometimes I lie on the mat in our lounge surrounded by books, and I try to pretend that I don't feel like a total failure. Then I look up and see my little girl running around and gabbling away in delight, and I remember that perfection isn't the the goal. The fact that she's happy and knows she's loved is beautiful and it shines out of her being. Our little house isn't perfect. Nothing is alphabetized or orderly anymore. Now there are crumbs and bits of smooshed up food all over the floor and the couch - this shows that we are blessed enough to have consistent meals. There is always laundry needing to be packed away - this shows that we have a washing machine that works. There are always dishes and bottles that need washing - this makes me intensely grateful for our dishwasher. There are toys everywhere - incidentally wooden blocks are even more painful to stand on than Lego is - this shows that our little lady has so many people who love her. It isn't perfect, but it's proof that we are living. I think living is the point. There will always be tasks to do - let me encourage you to go play in the grass with your kid and leave the laundry until later. And if you too have cereal wars, maybe you should give up and let the child eat yogurt and tennis biscuits for breakfast. I promise they'll survive - that's what Cherie says!