One of the things Dan and I were forewarned about was that it is quite common for former preemies to have oral aversions as they grow older. I guess being on a ventilator for 6 weeks, and having tubes shoved down your throat for the first 3 months of your life will do that to you.
Ian's oral issues are pretty mild. He has some texture issues, and had to have some therapy early on because he had issues with chewing food, but he finally got the hang of it. Perfect technique. The thing is though, just because he knows HOW to chew, doesn't mean that he WANTS to chew. It's just not his favorite thing, and sometimes he will forgo eating altogether if there is a lot of chewing involved. That, my friends, is a habit we are trying to break.
On the menu for dinner last night was rosemary chicken, potatoes, and mixed veggies. On the chewing scale, it ranks as moderate in my book.
As I prepared Ian's plate I said a a short, silent prayer: "Please let Ian eat a good amount of food tonight".
I placed Ian's plate on the table, yelled out "Time for dinner", and without any fuss he got into his chair. Dan said a prayer for the food, we all said Amen, and began to eat.
Ian picked up his fork and took a bite of chicken. Sweet!
A few seconds later he scooped up some potatoes and shoveled those into his mouth. Score!
It took a few minutes of intense chewing, but he successfully swallowed his food. Yippee!
On to the second bite: Ian did another chicken and potato combo, only this time he needed a lot more coaxing and cajoling get him to swallow his food. He finally did it though. Whew, what a relief. Or so I thought. Here is the abbreviated version of what happened next.
Ian: Done! Done! Down please.
Me: Ian you need to eat some more food
Ian: No thank you. Done. Down please
Dan (putting more food on Ian's fork): Here Ian, take a bite
Ian (shrieking and crying): No! Done.
Me (frustrated): Fine Ian, you can go to bed hungry
I helped him get out of the chair, told him to go pick out a book, and that I would be there to read it to him in a few minutes.
*SIGH*
"Don't worry", Dan said. "I'm telling you, there is going to come a day where we are going to worry about how to KEEP him fed. When he'll be eating us out of a house and home."
"Yeah, yeah" I thought to myself.
I was frustrated...
And tired...
And if we're being completely honest, annoyed.
It was obvious it was going to be one of those nights where the kid just didn't eat much. I was simply going to have to shake it off.
I walked into the living room and Ian already had his book picked out. I plopped down next to him on the couch, got comfortable, and we began to read.
Dan walked in a few moments later with a plate in hand (don't worry, we eat in our living room, it's cool) About halfway through the story, Dan stuck out a forkful of food. "Hey Ian, you want to take a bite?" Ian happily leaned over, devoured what was on the fork, and immediately got back into the story. A couple of pages later, Dan gave him another forkful and again Ian gobbled it down. Fast forward a couple of books and most of the food that was on the plate Dan brought in was gone.
Well what do ya know? Looks like the kid ended up eating a good amount of food after all.
Moral of the story: Just because things don't happen exactly the way you expect them to, doesn't mean you won't get the end result you were seeking and praying for.
In my mind, in order for Ian to eat a good amount of food, the family had to be gathered around the dinner table and he would eat bite after bite. When Ian only had two bites at the table, I figured the night was failure (food wise) and chalked it up to a lesson in patience.
I think I'm starting realize that it's my job to have faith, but that it is God's job to work out the details.
Oh, and the second moral of the story: My husband is a freaking genius.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
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