Sometimes I find myself jealous of parents whose kids eat whatever they put in front of them; or, in general, parents whose kids eat.  Mealtime in our home is a challenge, to say the least.

C has always been very picky.  He has always been more interested in playing than in eating.  Now that he’s a toddler and can run, throw, writhe and yell…

*sigh*

Eating seems like such an inconvenience to him.  He’ll only sit in his booster seat for a short amount of time.  He eats better on the run, but it’s so frustrating chasing him around with a plate of food.  I feel like I spend the better part of the day with a plate or bowl in hand, running after a 2-foot-tall person who has so many other things to do but pay attention to me as I try to shove food at him.

Some nights when I put him in the bathtub, I stress out over the fact that his ribs stick out.  I try to remind myself that he was in the 6th percentile of weight at his 15-month appointment last month.  He had been in the 5th percentile for about six months prior to that, so that 6th percentile news was quite exciting for me.  He’s small, but he’s growing.  It’s just so hard not to stress about it.

I see other children his age who have at least 5 pounds on him.  I see other children his age who love to eat, or simply do so without running the other way.  If he was in a higher weight percentile and ran away at mealtime, I would be less concerned.

I wish it was easier.  I wish I didn’t have to worry about it.