Yesterday, Ben had a couple of rough meals. We were struggling with bite size. I was trying to judge the size that was acceptable, and Ben could not tell what was expected of him, so he was nibbling. In breakfast, when he realized that he was going to be a level 2, he went for broke. It was one of those moments when I wished that I could pull a Spiderman, and take a photo from the ceiling of the feeding room. His nibbles on his pancakes were ridiculously slow, so between the nibbles (which do not count as a bite), and taking nibbles too slowly, he was demoted. Upon demotion, he began hitting, screaming, spitting pancakes, then throwing pancakes, he threw his plate, launching the spaghetti noodles, and for the grand finale, the cup of milk hit the wall, popping the lid, and milk splashed down the wall, and spread across the floor. There was breakfast carnage everywhere. I wanted to lay on the floor and laugh till it hurt, but that would break protocol, so I forced myself to behave. Lunch went the same, except he somehow managed to earn level 3.
Two disastrous meals caused the feeding therapists and the behavioral psychologist to huddle for a brainstorming session. Their solution was simple. All of his food would be cut into the appropriate size bites. I loved it! Ben loved it too. At dinner, he zipped through his sandwich in no time, and his snack in the evening was no challenge at all. Today his meals have been picture perfect, and a complete turn around from the snapshot of the previous day's meals. Miraculous!
The clinic is going to start aggressively introducing new foods. They asked me for a list of foods that I would like him to eat. My ideas: chicken, grilled cheese sandwich, hamburger patty, green beans, cauliflower, baked potato, and sweet potato. They will use one day per food, assuming he does well with the plan. He will be expected to take two bites in ones meal, five in the next, and ten in the last. That food will then become part of his regular meal rotation. The irony of this treatment is that he will be a better eater, by far, than his adorable and picky twin brother.
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How ironic! Maybe Benny will rub off on his bro. I assume that at the clinic, they have someone that gets to scrub the noodles and milk off the walls? That would make breakfast carnage much funnier. When a certain feisty daughter of mine hucks her plate of food, some of the funniness is diminished by the fact that I have to clean it up. Tragic. Good fits should be thoroughly enjoyed. (You can ask my hubby about my DD's fit at church when she wanted to be held by everybody else in the hall but him! You'd also enjoy the story of why she was so grumpy in the first place. . .picture young babysitters, a broken crib, and two very naughty little girls/monkeys. The doctor only said not to jump on the bed. He never said anything about the crib. He should have been more specific.)
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