What is it with toddlers and vegetables?? The mighty midget (my 2 year old) used to eat anything that was put in front of him and he ate virtually adult sized meals for breakfast lunch and dinner, plus snacks. Then when he was 18 mths old he slowly but surely began cutting things out until he would only eat meat, pasta and biscuits, except for daycare days where he still eats anything they give him. Slowly at dinner he has started eating potato's again however even more worrying he is starting to eat very little at home at all. He still has a good breakfast of porridge and then fruit for morning tea but come lunch time he wont anything occasionally by 2pm I convince him to eat some yoghurt cheese and fruit but then again come dinner time he will eat a couple of small pieces of meat and potato, or a huge amount of pasta, or other nights nothing at all. He hasn't gained weight for at least the last 6 months. He still has plenty of wet and dirty nappies so I guess hes still healthy enough for the time being but I'm desperate to break him out of this habit.
Today I made cheesey vegie pasta bake for lunch, something he would have 2nd and 3rd helpings of at daycare. He is currently sitting at the table wailing and screaming I'm trying not to reward this behaviour by giving it attention. I keep having to go pick him up off the floor and sit him back at the table I'm desperately trying to keep my cool.
In half an hour I'll take the plate off the table but Toy Story will not be going back on the TV and there will be snacks before dinnertime. At dinner he will be given the meat that we cook and vegie pasta bake again, and we will follow the same routine i.e meal will stay for half an hour after everyone else is finished eating and if he doesn't eat again there will be no snacks or bottles to fill him up before bed.
I feel horrible and cruel but I cant let this refusal to eat go on long enough for him to start getting sick and losing weight, hopefully it only takes a day or two for him to get the message.
He is currently screaming at me at the top of his lungs, demanding his dummy, juice, his movie, to be cuddled...everything but the pasta and water in front of him, god this is hard. Wish me luck :(
Thursday 28 April 2011
Wednesday 27 April 2011
Leap of Faith
I have a friend who at least once a day calls me superwoman. She doesn't have kids yet but spends a lot of time with mine and is constantly stating 'I dont know how you do it'. My usual automatic reaction to this is to laugh it off and begin listing all the reasons I'm not superwoman e.g, house is dirty, I yelled at my two year old this morning, we spent more days in our pj's than not last week, my man come home from his work as a cook, to cook dinner 9 nights out of 10...the list goes on. My friend then points out that I'm breastfeeding a newborn and caring for a toddler, monumental tasks in themselves. I know shes right so why do I, and so many other mums out there, constantly look to my percieved shortcomings instead celebrating my full and happy life?
I think as mothers (and fathers) instead of revering and enjoying the journey of parenthood we spend much of the time embroiled in a 'crisis of faith', faith in ourselves and our abilities to 'get it right'. We constantly compare ourselves to others and battle internal conflict with how the 'experts' say we should do it, and what actually works for us. This becomes even more pronounced for parents of kids who get sick. I am one of those parents.
For us the journey of sickness began the moment my first son was born, he was nearly 6 weeks early and within minutes of being born and placed on my belly, pink and screaming healthily the nurses exchanged worried glances,said something about his breathing that I didnt quite catch, and whisked him off to intensive care with my fiance following close behind. I was left alone in the delivery suite for the better part of two hours, not allowed to move yet due to the amount of blood I'd lost in labor in a state of panic and barely controlled hysteria, 'where is my baby, is he o.k, would someone please come back and tell me what the hell is happening!! Finally the midwife came back and took me down to NICU, My fiance and I were told that our brand new bundle was going to be taken by chopper to a hospital with a bigger better equipped NICU as he needed to be put on C-PAP because he was working too hard to breathe and while he was o.k now he would go downhill quickly without specialist care. Then the questions began, had there been any complications during the pregnancy, had I smoke, drank etc etc. and they were just the ones asked by the doctors. In my own head it was worse, was it because Id fallen down the stairs when at 24 weeks, or because I'd flown to NZ and back at 31 weeks? The doctor said they would examine the placenta but would probably never know why Id gone into early labor, but I knew. I put on a brave face but inside I was a mess, only a few hours in and I'd already failed as a mother.
While in hospital I pumped milk like crazy and ended up with massive oversupply, I felt like this redeemed me somehow, I was finally doing something right and In the end he improved really quickly and after 12 days we had him home.Butthe problems didnt end there, within a few weeks of having him home he started feeding for ages and screaming like he was hungry again within half an hour, he was fussy at the breast and wouldnt settle at night, when the community health nurse came out for his first check he hadnt gained any weight, bad news considering he was already underweight. Eventually we discovered that my massive oversupply had begun to dwindle and my poor little man wasnt getting enough, I pumped and pumped to get it back but by 6 weeks he was on formula exclusively and I gave up. I know now that this happened due to a combination of poor and absent advice from health professionals but at the time it was another failure.
He picked up quickly again after that and I thought we were finally out of the woods, then winter hit, his first 2 winters we were in the doctors surgery every other week with croup, bronchitis, bronchiolitis, throat infections, ear infections, and most recently 1 month into his 3rd autumn he was hospitalised for 3 days with suspected asthma triggered by yet another bout of bronchiolits. Again the self doubt was there, was this happening because I failed at breastfeeding?
With my second son who is now 14 weeks old I though I'd finally gotten it right, he was born close to full term weighing in at a healthy 3.9 kg (about 8 pound 8 oz in the old scale) and he fed like a champion, Isought the support of online communities like http://theleakyboob.com/, I was happy and confident. Then 4 days ago he was struck with bronchiolitis that had hospitalised his brother only weeks earlier. What was I doin wrong?!
Back off to hospital we went and sure enough he was admitted and this where I finally get to my point. After 2 lonely, uncomfortable and sleepless nights and discussions with a doctor who wouldnt discharge us but seemed to push the idea of us being able to go home and just come back if he went downhill I took a leap of faith. I figured that I could do just as much if not more for him home and home we went.
I'm not going to lie, it was a long hard night, he was extremely unsettled, refused the breast at times when usually its all he ever wants and would only sleep briefly in his cot if the mattress was propped at nearly a 45 degree angle. So I did whatever it took we had long steamy baths, flushed his nose with saline, gave panadol, fed in a steamy bathroom, sang, massaged and when all else failed we sat upright in our nursing chair with his little head pressed to my bare chest and we rocked...and rocked...and rocked and when finally he slept we rocked some more. I dont know how many hours we spent in that chair but for the first time in my kids lives I didn't get frustrated angry or upset when he wouldn't sleep and as dawn broke and he continued to snore i found in myself a new peace and confidence in my role as mum. I decided that I am superwoman because I am mum and so is every other mum out there who loves her kids unconditionally and would take on all the evils of the universe to protect them. It doesn't matter if our houses are messy, if we make mistakes, if our kids are sickly or sports champions. Its time to stop doubting ourselves and stop giving power to those who judge by considering their judgements even for a second. We can catch vomit faster than a speeding bullet, leap mountains of washing in a single bound, and love beyond our ability to comprehend, and that ladies, is all that matters!
I think as mothers (and fathers) instead of revering and enjoying the journey of parenthood we spend much of the time embroiled in a 'crisis of faith', faith in ourselves and our abilities to 'get it right'. We constantly compare ourselves to others and battle internal conflict with how the 'experts' say we should do it, and what actually works for us. This becomes even more pronounced for parents of kids who get sick. I am one of those parents.
For us the journey of sickness began the moment my first son was born, he was nearly 6 weeks early and within minutes of being born and placed on my belly, pink and screaming healthily the nurses exchanged worried glances,said something about his breathing that I didnt quite catch, and whisked him off to intensive care with my fiance following close behind. I was left alone in the delivery suite for the better part of two hours, not allowed to move yet due to the amount of blood I'd lost in labor in a state of panic and barely controlled hysteria, 'where is my baby, is he o.k, would someone please come back and tell me what the hell is happening!! Finally the midwife came back and took me down to NICU, My fiance and I were told that our brand new bundle was going to be taken by chopper to a hospital with a bigger better equipped NICU as he needed to be put on C-PAP because he was working too hard to breathe and while he was o.k now he would go downhill quickly without specialist care. Then the questions began, had there been any complications during the pregnancy, had I smoke, drank etc etc. and they were just the ones asked by the doctors. In my own head it was worse, was it because Id fallen down the stairs when at 24 weeks, or because I'd flown to NZ and back at 31 weeks? The doctor said they would examine the placenta but would probably never know why Id gone into early labor, but I knew. I put on a brave face but inside I was a mess, only a few hours in and I'd already failed as a mother.
While in hospital I pumped milk like crazy and ended up with massive oversupply, I felt like this redeemed me somehow, I was finally doing something right and In the end he improved really quickly and after 12 days we had him home.Butthe problems didnt end there, within a few weeks of having him home he started feeding for ages and screaming like he was hungry again within half an hour, he was fussy at the breast and wouldnt settle at night, when the community health nurse came out for his first check he hadnt gained any weight, bad news considering he was already underweight. Eventually we discovered that my massive oversupply had begun to dwindle and my poor little man wasnt getting enough, I pumped and pumped to get it back but by 6 weeks he was on formula exclusively and I gave up. I know now that this happened due to a combination of poor and absent advice from health professionals but at the time it was another failure.
He picked up quickly again after that and I thought we were finally out of the woods, then winter hit, his first 2 winters we were in the doctors surgery every other week with croup, bronchitis, bronchiolitis, throat infections, ear infections, and most recently 1 month into his 3rd autumn he was hospitalised for 3 days with suspected asthma triggered by yet another bout of bronchiolits. Again the self doubt was there, was this happening because I failed at breastfeeding?
With my second son who is now 14 weeks old I though I'd finally gotten it right, he was born close to full term weighing in at a healthy 3.9 kg (about 8 pound 8 oz in the old scale) and he fed like a champion, Isought the support of online communities like http://theleakyboob.com/, I was happy and confident. Then 4 days ago he was struck with bronchiolitis that had hospitalised his brother only weeks earlier. What was I doin wrong?!
Back off to hospital we went and sure enough he was admitted and this where I finally get to my point. After 2 lonely, uncomfortable and sleepless nights and discussions with a doctor who wouldnt discharge us but seemed to push the idea of us being able to go home and just come back if he went downhill I took a leap of faith. I figured that I could do just as much if not more for him home and home we went.
I'm not going to lie, it was a long hard night, he was extremely unsettled, refused the breast at times when usually its all he ever wants and would only sleep briefly in his cot if the mattress was propped at nearly a 45 degree angle. So I did whatever it took we had long steamy baths, flushed his nose with saline, gave panadol, fed in a steamy bathroom, sang, massaged and when all else failed we sat upright in our nursing chair with his little head pressed to my bare chest and we rocked...and rocked...and rocked and when finally he slept we rocked some more. I dont know how many hours we spent in that chair but for the first time in my kids lives I didn't get frustrated angry or upset when he wouldn't sleep and as dawn broke and he continued to snore i found in myself a new peace and confidence in my role as mum. I decided that I am superwoman because I am mum and so is every other mum out there who loves her kids unconditionally and would take on all the evils of the universe to protect them. It doesn't matter if our houses are messy, if we make mistakes, if our kids are sickly or sports champions. Its time to stop doubting ourselves and stop giving power to those who judge by considering their judgements even for a second. We can catch vomit faster than a speeding bullet, leap mountains of washing in a single bound, and love beyond our ability to comprehend, and that ladies, is all that matters!
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