Fearless is an extremely picky eater. The only foods I can guarantee he will eat have to either be 1) fruit 2) pepperoni pizza or 3) something with honey on it.....and even at that he pretty much has to be blindfolded and plugging his nose to take a bite. I seriously have no idea where the kid gets the energy that he has because it certainly doesn't come from his food intake.
To top it off, Fearless has an extremely sensitive gag reflex. As in, he can make himself throw-up at will.
Picky Eater+ Strong Gag Reflex = Seeing Lots of Dinners Twice.
This combination is especially lovely when we eat dinner at other people's houses...like the time right after we moved to The South and Dr. C's boss had us over for dinner and I quickly learned how to use my body as a shield to protect some family heirlooms brought over from Sweden from being covered with some ABC pasta.
Last night, we had enchiladas for dinner. For Fearless, this was a cause for major distress. They had red sauce. They had shredded lettuce on the side. They had (heaven forbid)
Oh, the torture!
My rule is that he has to have four bites. He can choose which four bites--he can drink as much water as he wants in between bites, but he does have to have four. And last night I was in no mood to deal with the whining and whimpering and gnashing of teeth that usually comes with dinner...so I informed him that if he made himself throw up, he would be heading straight to bed for the night.
(Sounds harsh, I know, but if you dealt with your child throwing up at will whenever you weren't serving something drowning in honey, I bet sending your child to bed wouldn't sound bad.)
He made it through dinner. (Hooray!) But as soon as he got down, the wailing began--"Enchiladas taste SO SO BAD!! I'm ALLERGIC to them!! I'm NEVER NEVER NEVER eating enchiladas again!!" and so on. Sigh.
We eventually got him calmed down, got ready for bed and I figured the drama was over for the night. Little did I know that at 3:15AM, I would be receiving some serious super-woman-mom training.
Dr. C and I were asleep--deep asleep when the door to our bedroom flew open and Fearless made THE sound. That "I'm About To Toss My Cookies" sound.
Instantly, I popped up and before I realized what I was doing, I had leaped out of the far side of the bed and to the door in a single bound. I grabbed Fearless, and in another amazing moment, we were back across the room, around the corner, and into the bathroom. I threw open the toilet just as Fearless was beginning to open his mouth. It was no small feat--from dead asleep to saving my carpet from stomach contents in a snap. Zero to 60mph in less than .5 seconds. I was pretty proud of myself--I bet my high school track coach wished I had had that sort of agility and speed back then!
As soon as he was finished, Fearless proclaimed, AGAIN, that he was allergic to enchiladas and that he would NEVER NEVER eat them again. Apparently, he had woken up, thought about how much he hated enchiladas, and made himself throw up. Lovely. At least I didn't have to clean up the carpet.