The Pretzel Diet

I am, without question, fully grown. In fact, I stopped growing somewhere around eighth grade when I suddenly sprouted up about a half foot above most of my class.

But given that, I'm left with one question: Why do I need still three meals a day when my children can seemingly get by on little more than fruit snacks, some cheese, a few crackers and milk?

I had almost forgotten this phase... but now it's all coming back. When Owen was just about Jake's age, he suddenly stopped eating. Almost entirely. Until then he had been such a good eater that his daycare teacher once told me she'd never seen a kid who liked vegetables as much as he did.

And then, almost overnight, he started to refuse almost everything. The phase seemed endless, and what he would eat each day was a guessing game. Some days it was pretzels, some days chicken nuggets, some days apples, some days yoghurt, some days cheese, and some days nothing. It was frustrating, and scary at times. But his doctor assured us that so long as he wasn't losing weight and so long as he kept drinking, it would work itself out.

Eventually he started eating again. And eventually, I forgot that whole miserable period.

Until now. Suddenly my young Jake has become as finicky as they get. When I do manage to squeeze his squirmy little body into his high chair, he usually gives me about two minutes to shove as much into his mouth as I can.... and then it closes. For good. He screams, he swivels back and forth, he jams his lips closed as tight as he can and he bats away spoons, forks, and throws what he can get his hands on as far as possible.

I keep meaning to chart out what he eats over the course of a day, but I'm a little afraid to find out. I can verify that he loves all things carbohydrate, like crackers, waffles and goldfish - but only sometimes. He loves macaroni and cheese, and ocassionally will eat cubes of cheese. I've seen him eat chicken, but not lately. Last week he liked carrots, but not anymore. A few weeks ago he liked peas, but now he squishes them. He once ate a grilled cheese sandwich, but never again.

The worst part is that Owen has followed suit, and now I have two kids who don't eat.

Most nights I do the buffet dance. I make a half dozen options, offer them each a little of this and a little of that, and hope in the end that they will have eaten enough to get them through the night. But in the end my efforts lately have been fruitless, they've eaten nothing and I've been left washing it all down the sink, giving Owen a waffle before bed, and offering Jake a full bottle of milk.

It's a phase, I know it is. And I'm sure that someday it will end. Until then, I'm going to stock up on macaroni and cheese. Oh, and pretzels, just in case Owen reverts even more.