The Apple

We have been suffering from a food strike phase where she rejects most foods except fruits and ICE CREAM. These days, she survives on a few mouthfuls of solids a day, a bit of fruit and breastmilk.

She suffers because she isn’t in the mood to eat and we have turned many hairs to white wondering how she can function with that little food. My husband is especially worried because he thinks kids will pick on her.

Coaxing doesn’t work. My husband suggested that we punish and force her to eat 3 full meals a day. I refused.

I rinsed an apple and bit into it so she could eat it easily. Wrong. Move.

Cue 10 full minutes of straight out wailing which saw her vomit. Her world crashed. Her computer system broke down. She screamed an error message of “NO! IT’S MY APPLE. MINE, MY APPLE” in between her sorrowful cries.

I sat silently across her, waiting for her to calm down. In a panicked voice, she requested to latch. I let her. When she unlatched, she continued her opera.

“Do you want a new apple?”

She nods.

“If I get a new apple, will you eat it?”

She nods again.

I rinse another apple, this time making sure not to bite into it and pasting the sticker labels onto the back of her hands.

“Omma, cheers”, she requests, passing me the apple with my bite mark and knocking it against her new one as an initiation to begin eating.


Now imagine if I lost my cool and whacked her for being noisy and throwing a tantrum? I wouldn’t have realised that she didn’t want me to bite into her apple and I would have made her very misunderstood and sad.

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