Mommy I want something to eat.

Today was a really tough day for me.  Despite it being Easter and a beautiful sunny day outside, Spy was in a rare mood, contrary and defiant, which started at the torturously early hour of 5am.  Every morning, upon waking my son greets me with the same six words, "Mommy, I want something to eat."  Now those of you who know me well know about my crazy relationship with food and my perpetual struggle to lose weight.  So hearing my son, ask for food every morning before even smiling or saying hello makes me paranoid that my son will inherit the unhealthy relationship I have with food.

To make matters worse, my son is THE PICKIEST eater.  He tortures me on a daily basis by refusing to eat the food I make him.  This is a power struggle that he saves only for me because I know for a fact at school (and for my mother) he eats everything that is put in front of him and then some.  I fear that this was a result of his earliest days...when he was not latching on properly and literally starving in the hospital - something I only realized when the nurse came to do a home visit that next day and Simon had lost weight.  The nurse recommended supplementing with formula (which by the way I had no objection too and I was furious that the nurses in the hospital did not pick up on the weight loss before we checked out - I would have started supplementing immediately had I known he was not getting enough to eat).  To this day I still feel guilty knowing that he was screaming in the nursery because he was hungry.  So I think subconsciously he is paying me back by refusing to eat what I give him.

Today besides refusing a healthy breakfast and throwing two temper tantrums before 8am because I would not give him Fruit Snacks (he calls them Fiats), Simon refused to wear his Easter outfit which I lovingly picked out for him at Gymboree and was so excited for him to wear.  He literally thrashed and tried to rip the shirt off of himself for 10 minutes - he wanted to wear the monkey shirt he has slept in and worn for the past 2 days to the restaurant.  Dan and I wrestled him into the car where he continued to thrash until 20 minutes later, defeated, we pulled over and I changed him into a different (ie clean) monkey shirt which luckily he accepted. 

When we got to the restaurant he refused to eat again...only taking a few nibbles from the foccacia and having a few french fries despite our attempts to ply him with pasta, chicken fingers and dinner rolls.  So by this time he is starving and miserable and is only happy when my father (thank goodness for Nonno Mario) takes him outside to watch the cars go by on West Chester Pike.  While outside he promptly removes his shoes and walks around the parking lot in his socks...the perfect solution to his non Easter monkey shirt outfit.

So today I am not feeling like that much of a success.  I have no pictures of my son in his adorable outfit, just a few pics that I managed to snap at 5am of him opening his Easter basket, which by the way Dan missed because he grunted and rolled over when I called to him to come and help us open the basket (another post for another time).  I hope that this whole food thing is just a passing phase becuase I am not sure my already fragile food loving/hating ego can take much more of this rejection.  At the very least I hope he starts to wait until we get downstairs in the morning to ask for food.  "Hi Mommy" would sound much better first thing in the morning...a mom can dream...right?