Josie hasn't done well with her eating during the last couple of days. I immediately thought she was regressing and I went into a full blown panic. In my world, a lack of enthusiasm for eating for a couple of days equates to "Oh my heavens - this child is going to be on the feeding tube until she goes to high school!!!" Ask Travis - going to extremes is my forte.
I was desperate. So desperate, that I called to mind some advice her feeding therapist had given me; advice that I'd conveniently ignored until now. She said to let Josie "play" in her food so that she has a fun and positive association with the food. Sounds like a great idea, right? The only caveat being that I am extremely mess averse. I truly had to weigh the benefit of Josie's oral motor experience against the sheer anxiety the notion of letting Josie cake herself (and my kitchen) in food would bring to me in my already fragile/hormonal/pregnant state.
But I started to imagine Grammie Deb sewing a mic-key button patch on Josie's prom dress and I caved. I stripped that baby down, set her in the bathtub, took a deep breath, and let her go to town...
Josie had a ball with this little exercise but she didn't eat very much...Oh well - it was worth a shot.
Fast forward a few hours later when Josie's Daddy sits down to feed her dinner. "Don't expect much" I warned him.
Well I'll be darned if that little stinker didn't scarf down a whole container of baby food faster than you can say "Forget you, Mom! Dad is my favorite!"
Ironically, she happened to be wearing this shirt today
(Target didn't have an "I love my Mommy" shirt)