14.11.08

Tell me I'm not the only one

I have really good blood pressure - so good, in fact, that every time the nurses would take my blood pressure when I was pregnant, they'd do it again and again and again because surely that fantastic reading was wrong. How can one be fat and have such sexy blood pressure?

I am here to confess that feeding my child turns my blood pressure into a nasty, hateful beast. I feel like I spend the majority of my time manipulating food into something she'll eat. But what she'll eat keeps changing ... she gobbles up apple cinnamon waffles one day and spits them out the next. She clamors for cheese ravioli one day and gags on it the next.

I can handle it at home. I simply offer her the food, watch her either refuse to open her mouth or let the half-chewed food roll out of her mouth. Then I take the food away and don't offer her anything else until snack time. Because I'm aware that she's not starving and that if she's really hungry, she'll eat.

But at a restaurant? Help me Jesus. I lose my patience. After wrangling her into the high chair and keeping her occupied until food arrives, she only wants to lick salad dressing off her crackers or suck the tomato sauce off her noodles. The rest? The rest she wants to crumble in her hands and then drop on the floor. She wants to wave at it then and yell "bye bye noo!" or "bye bye cacka!" And what does she do with those food caked hands? You guessed it: She runs them through her hair or wipes them on my shirt ... right before she throws her cup.

By the end of it, I can feel the blood throbbing through my veins. I can't breath well and my hands are shaky. I snap at people who think she's cute or who want to "just eat her up." I fantasize about the day when I can take her in public without feeling like I'm corralling a baby pig. I have to take deep breaths and demand no one talk to me in the car.

Am I the only one?

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