Squish likes chicken. Sometimes it is the only part of the meal he will eat. But lately . . . not so much. In fact, the boy seems to have it in for protein of any kind: meat, beans, eggs, yogurt. He will eat cheese. And fruit. And crackers. But anything green is out, as is anything that falls in the category of “vegetable.” (Though I have managed to get him to eat carrots that were thoroughly cooked in a soup.)
Squish also likes to save some for later. His breakfast stays half-eaten on the table until half an hour before lunch, when he gobbles up the soggy remains of granola or toasted oats or whatever. His lunch gets a similar treatment: half lunch, half after-nap snack.
Squish cannot be bribed or “encouraged” to eat anything – even things he likes. His chocolate-covered banana is sitting in the freezer because there was nothing in the world that would get him to finish the bell peppers and chicken that he picked out of his quesadilla at dinner tonight.
Squish is a take-charge kind of eater. If he’s hungry, he knows where the food is. He can get it himself. I have found him, many times, rummaging in the refrigerator, or discovered that he is on his third banana or string cheese of the day. (Contrast this to his brother, who at one time possessed a similar resourcefulness, but in his old age has resorted to moaning, groaning, snapping, rolling on the floor, and general crankiness to indicate his hunger level.)
Squish is particularly good with chocolate. And when I say “good with” I mean that if there is only one chocolate chip in a cookie, it will somehow find its way all over his face.
And this is what I love (and loathe) about feeding a two-year-old. You?