Good Eats

Yes, I know these pictures are bathed in some sort of heavenly glow. I think they're the result of Riis sucking on my iphone again. But this is dinner two nights ago, and it's is a good way to illustrate how oh-my-god unbelievably annoying Cole is about food.

He used to eat. He used to eat everything, actually. I mushed up organic peas, cooked big batches of minestrone, stirred lentils into his oatmeal. Everything went down the hatch. Then—and I'll never forget it—on day, as he was chewing on a piece of kale from the minestrone, he slowly reached into his mouth and pulled it out, then laid it carefully on his tray. That was pretty much it.

He wasn't yet two, I don't think. Suddenly, whenever I'd serve vegetables, they'd sit there untouched. Marcia wasn't a big help, since she already thought the tofu and other assorted yuppie foods I was feeding him were weird. So somehow in the span of six months or so, the number of foods he ate narrowed to well, a very small number. Let's just say that he's about to be four and I can count the number of dinner options he'll eat on two hands. (And TWO hands is an improvement! He's a regular EXPERIMENTER these days!)

We're intimately familiar with Amy's bean and cheese burritos (only the bean and cheese, never another brand or variety, or Cole will collapse in a sobbing heap of that'snotthekindIlikeIdon'twantthatkindIdon'tlikethatwaaaaahhhhh). Rice works, and I can even sneak an egg into it as long as I dump soy sauce on there. He'll do quesadillas with refried beans, though it took almost six months for him to accept that a tortilla with melted cheese rolled up was the exact same thing. Soy chicken nuggets are acceptable. Noodles work, though he rejects sauce and tries to eat around it. Pizza is always a go, happily. Dr. Praeger's spinach patties are about his only source of green. For some reason, those seasoned pucks are appealing to him. (Celery has made a brief appearance on his "like" list, though...celery? Is that even a food?) He'll do apple slices and orange slices, but rejects every. other. fruit. on the planet.

Other moms advise me to make smoothies. "They'll drink the fruit, and you can even slip in veggies without them knowing," they tell me sagely.

Uh-huh. I've tried it twice, getting him up in a chair to help me add everything to the blender to make it more exciting. I didn't dare try adding anything out of the ordinary. In fast, last time I used ICE CREAM. Strawberries, milk, banana, honey and ice. It wasn't a smoothie, it was a SHAKE. He took one sip, shook his head, and said kindly, "you can drink it, mom."

Meat—all forms—has been deemed "spicy," and is therefore not allowed anywhere near his plate, let alone his mouth.

For someone who cares about food, who wants nothing more than to inject organic broccoli soup into his veins, it's maddening.

My friend Dara has a little boy who won't even eat candy, so I have to cede the crown to her. Cole often won't eat frosting, and when he gets a doughnut he nibbles off the sprinkles and leaves the rest for the dog, but he is occasionally interested in cake, and will always go for a cookie. Anyway, she wrote a great piece about it in MNMO. (Interestingly, she pointed out to me that every terrible eater she knows is a little boy, which jives with my experience, too. Perhaps it's something in the chromosomes?)

http://www.minnesotamonthly.com/media/Minnesota-Monthly/June-2009/The-Doughnut-Gatherer/

So in the meantime, we muddle through. Two nights ago, in an attempt to introduce something out of the ordinary, I made french fries to go along with his soy nuggets. When he saw the plate, he looked at me, shocked.

"Mom, I can't just have french fries and nuggies for dinner!"

I looked at him, wary.

"Why not?"

"Because! That's not good for my body!"

ARGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH