Posts tagged ‘Operation: Fatten That Child’

December 7, 2011

Real Cows Don’t Moo

Ask an adult what a cow says, and he will answer, “moo,” but he won’t really mean it. This is because adults have the life experience to know that the sound cows make isn’t “moo” per se; it’s more like “mmmmmmmmmhhhaaaa.”

Where am I going with this, right?

This weekend John taught Jacob what a cow says. This is a big deal because Jacob rarely repeats words we offer him, unless it’s something that sounds like “dog” or “three.” The thing that worries me is that John didn’t teach Jacob to say, “moo.” He taught him to say, “mmmmmmmmmhhhaaaa.” Except when Jacob says it, it’s more like, “ mmmmm.” As in, “Mmmmmm, that burger looks delicious.”

So now I am simply waiting for the day that Jacob goes to pre-school or kindergarten, or wherever it is that animal sounds are formally reviewed with children, and his teachers ask him what a cow says. They won’t believe he’s from Brooklyn.  They will believe how carnivorous he is, though. Can you get good marks for that? I imagine his report that day will look something like this:

“Smiled and laughed a lot. Gave affectionate head butts. Seemed very hungry when he saw a drawing of a cow. . . . Does this child eat vegetables?”

In the meantime, there isn’t really any doubt around here that the kid eats enough. Operation: Fatten That Child has been a raging success, and I’m beginning to suspect that the advice at his next well visit is going to be to cut back. Check out that belly.

 

 

A muffin and half an avocado a day keep the doctor away!

November 30, 2011

Snack Cup Addict

It took me until I was about nine to have one stuffed animal that I really clung to, so I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t seem like Jacob had found an irreplaceable connection with any of his toys. He never took to a pacifier and while he sleeps with those weird blankets-with-animal-heads “lovies,” he’s not super attached to them. I thought this was just because he was such an easygoing guy, and I thought that was pretty cool of him.

This week I learned I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

True, our little boy is not attached to any stuffed animal, blanket, or pacifier. But you’ve heard the expression “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”? I think that was written about Jacob.

Operation: Fatten That Child has led me to offer Jacob snacks whenever he wants them. A while back I’d read that toddlers tend to graze and it can be tough to get them to eat full meals. So I thought the snack cup was a good idea. He snacks at home, in the stroller, in the carrier, at church, at the playground . . . everywhere. Sometimes he doesn’t even snack; he just sticks his hand in the cup and leaves it there, like he’s a modified, and less menacing Captain Hook.

It was cute for a while, but now there are times he needs to just put the snack cup down and walk away. Unfortunately, he has a grip like a vice and a will like steel. I know there’s going to be a tantrum anytime I try to take it away.

I’m hoping this is just a phase, and I really can’t wait for the day he decides to kick the habit.

October 17, 2011

Bread Is Back!

Last week, with the go-ahead from both our pediatrician and allergist, we gave Jacob wheat for the first time in over two months. I made sure we didn’t have anywhere to go, anything out of the ordinary to do, and watched him very closely both while he ate and afterward. Almost a week later, I’m still checking diapers for any sign of reaction, if you catch my drift, but so far? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. For the record, we hadn’t noticed any adverse reaction in him before, apart from the skin test. Either way, finally, and with many shouts of praise, BREAD IS BACK.

 

Gone are the days of paying six dollars for a miniature loaf of “bread” each week.  Can I get an “amen”?

 

The allergist recommended matzo, since it’s pretty much just wheat flour and water. I liked to think of Jacob’s diet those first few days as that of a carnivorous kosher vegan. Once that was deemed successful, we tried rosemary ciabatta . . . and then dairy-free, egg-free cookies . . . and then baguette . . . and Cheerios . . . and Italian bread. All were raging successes. One word comes to mind when we put a piece of bread in his hand: gobble. I don’t think we have to worry about the little man’s weight anymore.

 

When I was in high school, I worked in a Panera Bread restaurant. No, I never got tired of the food. At the orientation session (“Planet Bread”) the other new employees and I had to recite over and over, with increasing volume, “Bread is our passion, soul, and expertise!” My friend Adam thought I was joining a cult. Of course that wasn’t the case, but man, oh man, is it good to have bread back in our lives.

 

Next step, eggs!  The recent failed attempt may have been because the eggs weren’t fully cooked—apparently that can happen in the inside of French toast. We’re starting with egg matzo, of course, and hoping for the best!

 

Operation: Fatten That Child is making steady and happy progress. Onward and upward!

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