Saturday, May 3, 2008

We Prefer 'Discerning'

It was bound to happen sooner or later, right? The infant Bry who would put anything, food or not, into his mouth, seems to have morphed almost overnight into toddler Bry who, shall we say, has developed more sophisticated tastes. As one book puts it, Bry appears to be in the throes of neophobia, or the fear of anything new. Or, to put it another way, he's picky. Picky, picky, picky. Try to offer him anything new, and guaranteed, the response will be a firm, if not chipper, "No." It's still hard not to smile every time Bry says "no." The combination of his tone, facial expression, and utter certainty in his response is not unlike what I imagine say, Angelina Jolie, her brow furrowed and lips puckered, might use to address Steve Buscemi asking for a date. As in, "Duh, no way."

No.

It's not just new foods that get nixed, either. Bry's tastes are also as fickle as a presidential candidate in an election year. One day he's all, "Edamame, where have you been all my life? Come to papa!" and the next, "Please. Edamame is so 2007." As you might imagine, this can make for some frustrating mealtimes. Steve and I are trying our very best not to adopt short order cook syndrome while also trying to ensure that Bry eats more than carbs and fruit all day long (both of which he consistently puts away in astounding quantities). At least he'll still eat most anything at daycare. Must be something about the peer pressure of watching other kids eat combined with whatever they have in the water that gets him to pick up his toys without being asked.

OK. One bite. But I'm not going to like it.

This gets better, right? At least I can take comfort in knowing that Bry's father, who apparently subsisted on hot dogs and air for a long time has pretty much come full circle and will put just about anything into his mouth. Including the chicken's feet that his father-in-law convinced him to try (I'm thinking that was early in our relationship). In retrospect, perhaps Steve should have adopted a little bit of Bry's neophobia around that one.

What are you feeding me now?!

You eat it, daddy.

I'm only laughing because I've been distracted from the horrors of this meal.

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