Operating Instructions

We tried French fries with Josh; he calls them "fee fries!" and he'll eat one or two before growing bored.

My guru recommends direct instruction. "You have to remind your son, chew, chew, chew, and swallow." (I think of the Land of Chewandswallow, the meatballs raining from the clouds, the sun as a giant pad of butter.) Josh gets a little embarrassed if he is coached--but then I also hear him encouraging himself. "Chew! Chew! Chew!"

Bunker Hill, for me, was carrots. "Steam them," said my guru. And my son saw the carrots as a kind of rat poison. "Roast them, cut them to resemble French fries; this is the key to success!" And I did this, and my son never deigned to touch even one orange strip. Briskly, my guru told me to move on. It was time to work with proteins.

A "meat" ball is your friend--because you can persuade your child that he is eating beef when in fact he is eating little bits of mushroom. So I'm told. I've yet to see the evidence.

"Will you videotape a feeding session? Will you keep a food log? Will you commit to Lactaid and just accept the price bump and not try to switch back to milk the first time you think I've stopped watching?"

I try to be a good student; I listen the best I can. A new day has come.

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