Bad mama night.
Oct. 27th, 2006 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaPeople say that if you are known as someone who never yells, and then suddenly you yell, you will be taken very seriously indeed. This turns out not to be true. I'm not sure if that's fortunate, or unfortunate.
But let me back up, and start at the beginning.
Next week we're going back to the pediatrician for Alex's 18-month well-child visit. The biggest thing I'm concerned about is the weight check. As you may recall, at 15 months she hadn't gained any weight since the 12 month appointment, and overall she's slipped in the growth chart from the 75th percentile (at 9 months) to the 13th percentile for weight. Over the last couple of months, we've been striving to feed her larger quantities of more substantial foods. She looks a little more filled-out to me, but whether she's actually gained weight is anyone's guess.
In preparation for the appointment, I wanted to keep a three-day food diary for Alex. That way, if she hasn't gained adequately, we'll have a starting point for the discussion. Today was our first day of recordkeeping, and unfortunately, it was one of those days that makes you wonder if toddlers can subsist on air.
At dinner, all she wanted to do was play. I tried to push food on her - something I normally try very hard not to do, because duh, it backfires. As her play got increasingly rambunctious, and I envisioned myself writing "one-half teaspoon of chicken, one teaspoon of broccoli" on the food diary, I lost my temper. I gave her a warning and then took the tableware she was playing with away. She threw a tantrum. Michael took her out of her chair and cuddled her while I fought to control my anger. Trying to get her back in the highchair was fruitless, so he whisked her away to the bathtub.
When she came back down in her pajamas, I really tried hard. I suggested that she might like a bite of elephant instead of chicken, and she actually took a bite. She picked up a piece of bread and called it a giraffe, and had a bite or so. I tried to relax and let go of expectations. But quickly she was back to whining to get down, and I was pleading with her to "at least drink your milk." No go. The two bites she took at the outset of the zoo game were the only two bites she took.
We played for a while, read some stories. Then she asked for cheese. Repeatedly. "Cheese? Cheese? Cheese?" She even ran to the gate at the kitchen door and stood there, grinning. So I got her a little plate, and gave her a slice of cheese cut into triangles (because she loves triangles) and a handful of grapes. She nibbled off about one square milimeter of cheese, and then threw it down and ran away, giggling.
And I yelled: "You asked me for cheese, now EAT THE CHEESE."
She ignored me and went off to play. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, I ignored her. Picked up the Brust book I got for my birthday and totally ignored her. No more stories. I wouldn't have kept it up if she had wanted to interact, but she played on her own with apparent unconcern. Eventually she came back for another story, and was willing to eat the grapes if I just sort of made them appear in her hand one by one. But she avoided the cheese entirely. Like a total goddamned fool who had never met a toddler before, I tried to insist; I won't bother spelling out how well that worked.
She's been in bed for an hour and fifteen minutes, asleep for about forty-five minutes. I am still feeling angry, although much of it is now directed at myself.
Rationally, it makes sense to have a food diary to take with us to the doctor. Emotionally, I'm not sure I can do it. Not if Alex isn't going to eat a reasonable amount of food, anyway. Trying to document every bite of food stirs up all of my anxieties about her health, and my panic that maybe she isn't gaining weight. And then? Fruitless power struggles with an 18-month-old who has absolute control over what she puts in her mouth. I don't know why I can't just disengage, when I know perfectly well that the only way to win food battles is not to fight them.
Right now, someone reading this is mentally beginning their comment with, "She's obviously a perfectly healthy child..." But in fact, I'm not so sure. She has more sluggish, low-energy days than I'd like to see - mixed in with monkey-on-uppers days, sure, but still. She often seems to be just a little... off. It's the kind of thing that makes me wonder if we should get her checked for anemia... or if she might not be getting enough calories.
The kind of thing that makes me go ballistic when she won't eat TWO BITES OF CHICKEN when BOTH OF US KNOW THAT SHE LOVES CHICKEN.
Because we all know how much that kind of thing helps.
Okay, rambling in circles = time to stop. I think I'll go downstairs and disembowel a pumpkin.
But let me back up, and start at the beginning.
Next week we're going back to the pediatrician for Alex's 18-month well-child visit. The biggest thing I'm concerned about is the weight check. As you may recall, at 15 months she hadn't gained any weight since the 12 month appointment, and overall she's slipped in the growth chart from the 75th percentile (at 9 months) to the 13th percentile for weight. Over the last couple of months, we've been striving to feed her larger quantities of more substantial foods. She looks a little more filled-out to me, but whether she's actually gained weight is anyone's guess.
In preparation for the appointment, I wanted to keep a three-day food diary for Alex. That way, if she hasn't gained adequately, we'll have a starting point for the discussion. Today was our first day of recordkeeping, and unfortunately, it was one of those days that makes you wonder if toddlers can subsist on air.
At dinner, all she wanted to do was play. I tried to push food on her - something I normally try very hard not to do, because duh, it backfires. As her play got increasingly rambunctious, and I envisioned myself writing "one-half teaspoon of chicken, one teaspoon of broccoli" on the food diary, I lost my temper. I gave her a warning and then took the tableware she was playing with away. She threw a tantrum. Michael took her out of her chair and cuddled her while I fought to control my anger. Trying to get her back in the highchair was fruitless, so he whisked her away to the bathtub.
When she came back down in her pajamas, I really tried hard. I suggested that she might like a bite of elephant instead of chicken, and she actually took a bite. She picked up a piece of bread and called it a giraffe, and had a bite or so. I tried to relax and let go of expectations. But quickly she was back to whining to get down, and I was pleading with her to "at least drink your milk." No go. The two bites she took at the outset of the zoo game were the only two bites she took.
We played for a while, read some stories. Then she asked for cheese. Repeatedly. "Cheese? Cheese? Cheese?" She even ran to the gate at the kitchen door and stood there, grinning. So I got her a little plate, and gave her a slice of cheese cut into triangles (because she loves triangles) and a handful of grapes. She nibbled off about one square milimeter of cheese, and then threw it down and ran away, giggling.
And I yelled: "You asked me for cheese, now EAT THE CHEESE."
She ignored me and went off to play. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, I ignored her. Picked up the Brust book I got for my birthday and totally ignored her. No more stories. I wouldn't have kept it up if she had wanted to interact, but she played on her own with apparent unconcern. Eventually she came back for another story, and was willing to eat the grapes if I just sort of made them appear in her hand one by one. But she avoided the cheese entirely. Like a total goddamned fool who had never met a toddler before, I tried to insist; I won't bother spelling out how well that worked.
She's been in bed for an hour and fifteen minutes, asleep for about forty-five minutes. I am still feeling angry, although much of it is now directed at myself.
Rationally, it makes sense to have a food diary to take with us to the doctor. Emotionally, I'm not sure I can do it. Not if Alex isn't going to eat a reasonable amount of food, anyway. Trying to document every bite of food stirs up all of my anxieties about her health, and my panic that maybe she isn't gaining weight. And then? Fruitless power struggles with an 18-month-old who has absolute control over what she puts in her mouth. I don't know why I can't just disengage, when I know perfectly well that the only way to win food battles is not to fight them.
Right now, someone reading this is mentally beginning their comment with, "She's obviously a perfectly healthy child..." But in fact, I'm not so sure. She has more sluggish, low-energy days than I'd like to see - mixed in with monkey-on-uppers days, sure, but still. She often seems to be just a little... off. It's the kind of thing that makes me wonder if we should get her checked for anemia... or if she might not be getting enough calories.
The kind of thing that makes me go ballistic when she won't eat TWO BITES OF CHICKEN when BOTH OF US KNOW THAT SHE LOVES CHICKEN.
Because we all know how much that kind of thing helps.
Okay, rambling in circles = time to stop. I think I'll go downstairs and disembowel a pumpkin.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-28 03:00 am (UTC)(As for how long I've been reading your journal, off and on for years - we went to undergrad together, and you left a comment once on my now-defunct Other LJ, but I didn't hear from you again. Still, I hopped in now and then, and have finally friended you recently after realizing that you are One With Whom It Is Safe To Mix Fandom And RL.)