JUST EAT IT, DAMMIT

I remember when I knew everything about feeding babies.

I had friends who complained their children ate nothing.

Mine, on the other hand, ate everything and asked for more.

Eva was a little machine, shovelling away like clockwork. Whatever I threw at her, she'd gulp it down whole like a seal tossing back fish at Marineland. She jammed it down her throat so fast she would choke if I didn't chop and grind everything...from vegetables to cereal to cottage cheese.
Not lying. I actually MASHED HER COTTAGE CHEESE so she wouldn't choke.

I took Eva's willingness to eat as a sign that I WAS DOING MY JOB WELL.

Now I have a child who eats NOTHING.

And I realize HOW UNBELIEVABLY STUPID I WAS.

It is just after three in the afternoon, and - so far - Adder has eaten three Cheerios, two bites of a whole-wheat cracker, one bite of baguette, one pea, and the residue of cheese that remained in her mouth after she spat out a bite of pasta so violently it skittered across the floor.

Yesterday, even less.

Now, I know I am not supposed to worry. I should just sit back and let it happen because children won't let themselves starve. I know this. I know she won't deliberately STARVE herself to DEATH.

It's just that she's such a tiny little weiner.

Skinny little pipe-cleaner legs...wee little arms...tiny little head with these huge, huge eyes.

Let her nose run for a minute and she looks like an ad for child poverty.

And it's frustrating when you work hard to create meals she will like...meals she will actually eat, dammit, and then watch her delicately run her tongue over the most miniscule amount possible to fit on a spoon, then fire the whole plate over the edge of her high-chair tray IN DISGUST.

SO.

I'm sitting back.

Not worrying.

Not.

Worrying.

Almost time to start thinking about supper.

What can I disgust my child with, tonight?

The possibilities are ENDLESS.

It's almost liberating.

I'd call her a little maggot...but at least MAGGOTS EAT.