Eating with Toddlers

my son after splashing in the cat water bowl

I was so relieved to have children who love to eat.  When we started them on solids at seven months old, they ate everything!  I proudly told other mothers that my children enjoyed tasting new foods - fruits, vegetables, grains, yogurt, proteins, legumes.  Everything that came in pureed form, my children devoured.  I heard horror stories from other mothers who felt compelled to force feed their children, and I was thankful for my easy eaters.

Then came finger foods.  We cut up the foods we ate into tiny pieces and the twins explored new tastes and textures.  My son loved to eat broccoli.  My daughter preferred spicy dishes.  They ate chicken, beans, rice, pasta, peas, Indian food takeout and Mexican meals.  Everything went in their mouths.  For my daughter, eating was a serious endeavor, requiring deep concentration.  My son thought mealtime was hysterical and giggled between bites.

Which leaves me stupefied.

What exactly happened to my children between infancy and toddlerdom?

My son gained a mouthful of teeth, which must correlate with the formation of the catapult.  He mastered the quick flick of his arm from the elbow, launching hand-held, bite-sized delicacies high in the air.  They oftentimes hit his mother or sister before dropping splat on the floor.  Sometimes he even puts the food in his mouth and chews it before taking it out and flinging it.  Mealtimes have become one way food fights.  And all foods are cast in equal measure.

I start by reprimanding my 15-month-old son.  "No, we don't throw food.  Food goes in your mouth."  Unfortunately, the barrage of flying food is followed by the let's-laugh-at mama-when-she-gets-mad-and-do-it-again strategy.  Which doesn't work.

So then I take his food away.  This usually causes some consternation followed by angry howling from the high chair.  Then comes my firm, "Food goes in your mouth, not on the floor.  Show me how you put food in your mouth," and the return of said food.  Which is promptly pitched over the side of the high chair once again.

Then I remove the child from the table, carry him silently into his bedroom, and plop him on the floor in the middle of the room.  Where he cries for all of two seconds, looks around him, and happily begins to play.  NOT the intended outcome.

Upon returning to the dining room, I see his sister drop all of her food onto the floor.  She is looking right at me, smiling.  She wants attention, too!  She is graceful and delicate and does not opt for the hurling launch.  Instead, she has perfected the open-handed discard, the ladylike free-fall that makes no sound.  Her food selections invariably bounce - onto the carpet, under the potted plant, under the furniture.

Again, the reprimand.  "No food on the floor.  Food goes in your mouth."  My daughter then pretends to put the food in her mouth, she pretends to chew, she says, "Nom nom," and she pretends that I'm not watching as she opens her hand over the floor and discards said food.

Thus the food is removed, the child is removed, and she cries loudly in the bedroom.  I sit down, take a deep breath, and decide to finish my own meal in peace and quiet at the now-empty table.

While I am eating, my daughter, followed by my son, crawls back into the dining room.  I'm still annoyed, so I ignore them.  They giggle.  They crawl under the table to the high chairs.  I continue eating.  I hear, "Nom nom" so I glance under the table to find my children eating their bite-sized food off the floor.  I close my eyes for a moment of sanity, trying to decide if the five-second rule is actually important or not.  My daughter is serious about her meal selection, finding shriveled peas from the day before under the potted plant.  My son thinks the whole thing is hysterical until I turn around to find him joyfully splashing in the giant puddle he created by upending the cats' water bowl.  How did he get there so fast?

Eating with toddlers is a blend of aggravation and humor.  I have tried different strategies.  Ignoring the problem makes it worse because my children think it's funny to make a mess.  Addressing the problem directly makes it worse because it provides desired attention.  So now I praise.  Every. Single. Bite.  It begins with my son's first catapulted splat.  I turn to my daughter and say, "I LOVE how you are putting your food in your mouth and chewing it!  YAY!"  I clap, she smiles, and she exaggerates her next bite to make sure I'm looking.  My son watches this exchange, and puts the next bite of food in HIS mouth.  I say to my son, "I LOVE how you are putting the food in your mouth!"  My daughter looks at him and claps, too.  When she looks away he lobs more food onto the floor, and we start over.

Today, my daughter requires a cheerleading squad to eat appropriately, and when one is not provided she pretends to discard her food to the floor, then quickly pops the food in her mouth and smiles sweetly at me.  She claps and cheers for herself every few bites and expects me to join in.  (If I fail to notice when she is finished, she will still deftly drop the rest of her meal overboard.)  My son continues to perfect his catapult, unless, of course, I have given him tiny bites of scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles, or grilled cheese.  These are the only foods currently deemed edible by his tender palate.  All other nourishment I sweep up off the dining room floor after mealtimes, just in case my children decide to crawl back later for a snack.