I guess I should start off by apologizing for not posting anything about Hooper’s eating for a while. I had to take a break from bitching about how awful it is. I was sparing ya’ll from my incessant whining and complaining. It’s bad enough to live it, worse to write about it, and probably annoying to read about. So, I’m excited to have something positive to say.

We’ve called in help.

As in professional help.

Sound extreme? I initially thought so too. Surprised there are professionals that specialize in feeding difficult children? Me too. Best decision I’ve made as a mom thus far? Perhaps. I’d put it right on up there with hiring a cleaning crew. 

Wondering why we called in the troops? Sit down, grab some coffee, this could take a while.

We made a ton of mistakes; We tried distractions. We tried ultimatums. We tried time outs. Every bite was becoming a battle. Our strategies to get Hooper to eat were always changing and the inconsistency was making us look like babbling idiots. One of the main things I requested from the occupational therapist was a game plan; something Willy and I could both agree on with some sort of, dare I say, evidence based research behind it; because I’m pretty sure duct taping your kid to the chair and force feeding them is not a proven method. And trust me, we were two shakes of a lamb’s tail away from investing in some duct tape. Or super glue. 

Tension at the table. I can’t remember the last time Willy and I had a “Hey, how was your day” conversation at the table. Making sure Hooper ate his food became an obsession on both of our parts and all of our attention and energy was centered on him. It led to arguments between Willy and I as we fought over ways to deal with it. If he ate his dinner, we’d go on with our evenings in good moods. If he didn’t eat his dinner, we’d linger around the table overcome with frustration and anger. The fact that what he ate, or didn’t eat, had any affect on our moods at all was clearly a problem in itself.

Spoon feeding. Having Van around has shed light on just how ridiculous things with Hooper have become. Van happily sits in the highchair and goes about his business feeding himself. We pay little attention to how much he eats. Truthfully, I have no idea how much gets into his mouth and how much is gobbled up by Sarah as it hits the floor. And really, I don’t care. I’ve accepted my role in Hooper’s poor eating and want to take myself out the equation as much as possible now that I have the chance to with Van. I’m confident that he gets what he really needs at the breast anyway, so whatever he grabs off the table is his business. He cries when he wants more and, most of the time, I give him a little more. And that’s the extent of my involvement. It seems odd that he’s totally self-sufficient while I’m on the other side of the table dangling a spoon full of food in front of a child that’s totally capable feeding himself. Again, my problem. Like I said, we’ve made mistakes. 

Organizing our day. We all know Hooper is a fantastic sleeper. So much so that it began to feel that his entire waking hours were spent feeding him. Meals were taking forever. There was one time, for example, that I had to go to Costco. I tried to give him lunch as fast as I could and we left when he was still finishing his last bite. We got in the car, drove to Costco, parked the car, made our way into the store, and as we walked down Aisle 9, he still had the bite of food in his mouth. True story. Are you still questioning my decision to bring in professional help?

I knew it was all wrong, I just didn’t know how to make it right. 

Then came Kary.

I remember, long ago, when I was in a why is hindsight 20/20 kinda relationship. It was one of those relationships that was just not right. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t a good fit because I was reluctant to share much of it with even those closest to me. But, when I did start sharing, I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my very own mouth. Listening to my own words had me shaking my head before I could even get to the end of the story. 

In emailing and talking with Kary, I had a sense of deja vu. That feeling of what the hell have I been doing? came over me. I admitted to Kary that he is totally capable of feeding himself but that we have gotten in the habit on not trusting him to do so. And, at that moment, I wanted to eat my own words.

My best friend is beautiful. I know, off topic, but stay with me. When she got married, she hired this ridiculous guy to come do her makeup. I label him ridiculous because we’re talking about a girl that wears no makeup, does not need to wear makeup, and does not want to wear makeup. And she hired a guy who does makeup for drag queens. Literally. I’m not joking. When I questioned her about it, she said this: I’ll feel more beautiful walking down the isle knowing that a profession helped me get ready. So despite the fact she had him remove the eye liner and that the rejected lash extensions stayed in his makeup box, she walked down the aisle feeling more confident, more beautiful.

Same same, but different. I have an idea of what needs to be done to make things better. I know I need to trust Hooper more and I can see that in my very own telling of the story. But, I also think partnering with a professional will help me become more confident and will help me stay on track. Plus, there’s two of us that needs help; Willy needs to be on board too and the ship were sailing on needs to be driven with both of us, working in concert.

This will be a continuing series because there’s a lot to be said. Please share anything that has worked for you or that you have learned along the way. Have a difficult-to-feed toddler? I feel ya.

Side note: Thanks to everyone who commented on the They come in all shapes and sizes  post. There was some good dialogue and I just finished responding to each comment.