No matter how much I love being a parent, I’ve found almost every kid inevitably goes through some phase that causes a parent stress.  Whether it’s refusal to potty-train (been there, done that.), temper tantrums (been there, am still there) or experiencing social pressures from school or elsewhere (soon will be there), we all go through periods of parental anxiety.

I’m told these stressful phases pass with time and I will end up laughing about them. So in an attempt to self-induce my first chuckle, here’s my latest mommy stress…

When Elle started eating finger foods, she was willing to eat just about anything.  By age 2 ½ , she was enjoying everything from sushi to liver (yes, liver).  My husband and I patted ourselves on the back at what skilled parents we were.   We had raised a pint-sized foodie!   We congratulated each other as we bewilderedly stared at those other kids who would only eat hot dogs and those fishie crackers.  We just couldn’t understand….

Until now.

Enter Max, our second child, who abruptly smacked our smug parenting into place and made us realize that Elle’s great eating had nothing to do with us, but instead, with some innate delight for a variety of foods that Max simply didn’t possess.   It seems that Max is undergoing a self-imposed master cleanse on a daily basis since he pretty much lets nothing into his body except Cheerios and cheese sticks.   I do not know the last time he consumed a vegetable.

When Max started finger foods, he promptly rejected anything that didn’t look like a Cheerio.  Even the usual toddler crowd-pleasers of pasta, crackers and ice cream (yes, ice cream!) were dismissed.

As I watched his pudgy baby fat start melting away, I maniacally consulted parenting books, blogs and websites for advice on how to deal with my picky eater.  I tried many tactics to cojole him to eat including:

• The logical: being more “zen” during mealtime to reduce pressure. (Problem: I am not zen.)


• The deceptive: mashing up tofu and hiding it in a chocolate smoothie.  (Problem: he wouldn’t touch the smoothie.)


• The desperate: I once served Max strawberry jello for lunch and gave my hubby high-fives that Max actually ate something other than a Cheerio.

Still, despite my efforts, my little man just grins right back at me, oblivious that his eating habits are making his mom crazy.  Of course, there’s nothing wrong with Cheerios and cheese, but I just wish Max wasn’t so picky!

I’ve recently started making food more fun and borderline ridiculous, and while my fridge is still always stocked with cheese, Max seems to have expanded his food repertoire somewhat.

If I put raspberries on my fingers or make mini sculptures of Stonehenge out of banana slices, the boy seems willing to ingest them – perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sympathy for his mom having to mangle pieces of fruit with her bare hands on his behalf.

So that’s my latest mommy stress!  What’s yours?