Can’t eat, won’t eat

Alby isn’t a bad eater.  I have yet to find something that he won’t eat; shepherd’s pie, prawn noodles and chicken burgers all make their way down the hatch.  In fact so accepting is he of new foods that there have been times when I’ve wished he would at least acknowledge that he’s being given a new taste and texture. 

But don’t be fooled into thinking that accepting new tastes makes for a perfect eater.  Alby loves to start a meal by dropping the contents of his tray table on the floor.  Sometimes he can even be found looking to see if Percy is nearby before dropping his lovingly / manically prepared meal.  Once you coax him to take a few bites he can stop half way through to do the double arm swipe – clearing his tray table in two swift moves.  The food that does manage to cling on is rewarded either by being bashed with his spoon or soaked as he tips the entire contents of his Diodi cup over the highchair.  

As he masters drinking from a cup he is keen to extend this skill at dessert time, pouring yoghurt from pot to mouth.  An impressive skill for a baby until he starts to congratulate himself, a ceremony which involves flapping his arms about.  Sound safe enough?  Well, it would be if only he put the yoghurt pot down first but as it is my table, floor, curtains and walls are getting regular yoghurt blessings.

His recent fever has made eating even more challenging with Alby fully engaged in the sociable and fun side of meal times but not so bothered about actually putting the food into his mouth.  As parents we cook and prepare meals with only one end point in mind – them being eaten.  And when that doesn’t happen as we imagined, or at all, it can be very easy to lose perspective. 

I have recently started reading my newest parenting manuel: “Toddles, The Mumsnet Guide”.  I wasn’t looking for answers to any specific question or issue, but found myself going through the section on food and ended up feeling amused, reassured and revitalised.  It was the perfect medicine when I didn’t even feel poorly.  Whilst I get concerned about Alby only eating a couple mouthfuls of food other mums contributing to a post asking about what their fussy children have eaten that day write:

“One packet of Mini-Cheddars, one packet plain hula hoops, one custard cream biscuit.  That’s it”

“I have two vegetarians who won’t eat vegetables”

“Dry ice-cream cones for breakfast”.

Brilliant. 

As the final post concludes, “it’s highly unlikely that there will be a whole generation of people in 20 years’ time who won’t go to restaurants for dinner because they only eat Hula Hoops and dry toast followed by yoghurts without “bits” in.”