Feeding Preschoolers: Snacktime

I get a lot of questions that sound like this "How do you do it?" And so I'm going to start telling you how I do certain things because apparently the thought of having a two, three, and four year old to most people is unfathomable. So, I will help you fathom it. Please know, that I am not telling you that the way I do this is the way everyone should do it, the way you should do it, the best way to do it, or even the way I'll do it tomorrow.

My kids used to be easier to feed than they are now. Maybe my standards were lower? No, that was just his birthday celebration and his Nonna gave him that monstrosity piece of cake the size of his face!

Truthfully, when Peanut was my only actual eater because Pickle was still on the boob life was easier...in so many ways. He's always been a fairly good eater and since he was my only child and then only eater I took the credit for it!

Once he was on table food (I, an overachieving mother, of course, made my own baby food for that brief in-betweeny stage), but once he was eating real food we gave him tiny age appropriate size portions, which for toddlers is about a tablespoon per year of age. (Great link by the way. We used it all the time when I was worried more about proper nutrition and less about whether or not I was going to eat my own young.) We also never did the "clean plate club" or the "eat this many bites" or anything like that. We encouraged him to eat it and if he wouldn't or didn't like it then it was easy enough to give him something else yogurt, cereal, PB&J...depending on his age. It was one kid and not a big deal to us at all.

But then! Then! Almost simultaneously I had triple the amount of toddler/preschool taste buds to contend with  because Pickle was 17 months old and contending with serious stomach issues/not eating or gaining weight, we brought home a young preschooler from Ethiopia, and there was still Peanut.

The chaos started May 2010 and it lasted until spring of 2011. They were eating. They were not eating. They were snacking constantly. They didn't want to try things and the little wimps are suckers for peer pressure because as soon as one of them didn't like it the rest of them didn't like it either whether or not they'd previously enjoyed it, if they were still chewing their last mouthful and said they liked it, or it was manna from heaven. Plus you throw in what passes for manners and humor at that age and the whole thing was a disaster.

For most of that time I didn't care. I couldn't care. It was not a matter that was going to heal us and so we let it slide. By early spring though I'd had enough.

The first thing I changed was snack time.

There was a morning snack time usually between 9:30-10. And that would be the ONLY snacktime of the morning. They could eat or they could not eat, but I was going to having individual snacktimes all day. And morning snack is pretty basic. There is not that much time between breakfast and lunch! Fruit and milk was pretty standard, or a slice of cheese, a few crackers, and maybe some juice.

Afternoon snacktime did not happen until all the kids were up from their nap, which at the time was 3:00 when the babies got up. This was hardest on Peanut who would be up earliest and who had shared a post-nap snack with me his entire life. They're usually up earlier now, but we still usually stick close to 3:00. This snack is usually a little more substantial and (I think) really helps them make it to dinner time with less fussing. If they didn't have a fruit in the morning I give them fruit and something else. Otherwise we're fairly flexible here...maybe a treat,  they looooove popcorn, pretty much whatever we have is a possibility for them.

Even changing those few simple things was really helpful in terms of getting us through the day. Food issues in adoption are really common and so when I started this I was concerned about what Boohoo's reaction would be and I was ready to scrap this plan if she'd have had a hard time. At first we did talk about it a lot, a ton, constantly, and without stopping, but in their defense I had totally shaken things up. Before I fed them whenever they asked and now I was putting them off until a specific time. But we talked about it and we'd talk about how yes we would have a snack, but first we were going to play with trains for awhile, or oh, we just had snack a little bit ago and we'll have more food at dinner, and we will always have enough food here and etc. If there was ever time Boohoo seemed worried or we thought someone couldn't wait then we'd offer a piece of fruit. We did that for a really long time and we still do it, but less often. After this long I think they all have a better sense of their own hunger and I have a better sense of a hungry child versus a bored child, etc. The biggest change though came after the initial adjustment (which I guess is how those things work), which was remarkably short.

This snacktime switch-up was good for my kids. It settled them down. They quit asking eighty gajillion times a day if it was time to eat, when it would be snack time, if we were eating dinner today, and all manner of other absurd questions about food. They also started being more interested in eating dinner (slightly). What I think, is that each of them felt more secure, felt more like--hey, there's an adult in charge here. I don't have to ask to fed (but I can), and they continue to feed me! I will stop worrying about my next meal and will concentrate on the business of being a child: driving my mother crazy learning and playing. 


Remember I'm not saying that this work for your child or even that you should try. We all know that with children who have trauma issues that food issues are common and that the perils of parenting have slipperier slope and steeper learning curves. I've got to blog about something though. :)

Next week: Feeding Preschoolers: Dinnertime

Book Review: "Yo! Yes?"

Backstory: We've had this book for awhile and it was one that I was just lucky enough to stumble across in the bookstore. Maybe I shouldn't call it luck if I'm taking an hour easy to scour the children's section. I was looking for a book for Pickle and he really likes to read to himself and so I like his books to have great illustrations as well. 

Overview: "Yo! Yes?" was written and illustrated by Chris Raschka and is a Caldecott Honor Book, which is always a good sign. The story is about two little boys, one white and one black, who meet and become friends all while using about a dozen words, each page only has one or two words. At first glance, maybe that seems like it's not enough to get a point across, but the words are simple and child accessible and the illustrations will pull you right into the page. They are expressive and a great jumping off place for talking to a young child about identifying emotions through facial features/body language.

Intended Audience: My kids don't pull this one out all the time, but every time that we do read it they really enjoy it, and will bring it to me several days in a row before it gets shelved again. And I know it sounds hokey, but we really do talk about making friends and emotions. 

My thoughts: It's a great story for young toddlers, the illustrations are fabulous, and it makes us all have a big smile by the time we get to the last page. I also like that it features a little black boy, we have a lot of girl books, but it's nice to see little boys represented as well. If you'd like to try before you buy here's an animated version of it from PBS' "Between the Lions".

Score: 5 out of 5. Definitely worth buying and adding to your collection! 

Sunday School Fail

The family and I are on the hunt for a new church. High up on our list of priorities is that it be a diverse environment. I'm learning a lot of things about diverse churches. Namely, there aren't a lot of them out there, but if you call and ask every church will tell you that they are diverse. I'm considering reframing the question like this, "We're interested in joining a diverse church, and by diverse I mean not just white people. Does that describe your church?"

Recently we had this experience. We were led into a room for three year olds, but we were going to leave Boohoo and Peanut in there together. So we are talking to the I'm-sure-lovely-in-other-aspects-lady who volunteered to spend her morning overrun by three year olds. 

She introduces herself to Boohoo and Peanut who is stoked at a roomful of new toys and tells her his name and then runs off to play. She smiles at Boohoo, asks her her name, gets no response from Boohoo so she tells her that she's pretty and turns to me. I fill in her name with a smile.

The first question, the only question, that this woman had for me regarding the care of my children for the next hour was......"Where is she from?"

And my brain goes oh no, oh no, oh no, she's doing it, she's going to be first woman that actually offends me, say something, say something, quit staring at her like an idiot and say something! 

I put my hand on my daughter's shoulder, my daughter who is now being discussed like a great pair of shoes, and I say something stupid like "She's from my house just like her brother." But even as I'm speaking my voice isn't even loud enough and she's talking over me not listening to my answer, but maybe at least getting the impression that there's something wrong with her question.

So she clarifies herself like I just don't understand her the question. "Where is she from originally?" 

And Pickle is squirming and fussing to get down and this isn't his room and we need to leave and I think maybe she's from Chicago, maybe she's from Washington DC, maybe she's from here, you know America, maybe she is my BIOLOGICAL CHILD and you're really putting your foot in your mouth, but I say, "She was born in Ethiopia." And I'm still hoping this conversation is going to redeem itself and she's going to tell me that granddaughter was just adopted from Ethiopia. But nooooooooo. She throws down her hand and I almost throw up.

"Because part of our lesson is about our sponsored child from TANZANIA. This will be good for the children to you know, SEE." And she bobbled a bit here because I think she could tell from the look on my face that I was not on the same page as her.

And I would put my hand on the Holy Bible and swear that I wanted to beat that Sunday School teacher down right there in church with a flannel board. And again, my brain was so busy that I couldn't even get anything out of my mouth.

I was horrified and angry and stunned and shocked and totally at a loss. I didn't know what to say and in the end I didn't say anything. I left my baby there with her. Pretty frankly, I'm ashamed that I didn't say something to her. That is my child that she was objectifying, reducing down to an object lesson for a bunch of three year old white kids about "Africa". Forget the fact that my daughter is from ETHIOPIA and NOT TANZANIA, this woman looked at her and pretty much said eh, she's exotic enough, Ethiopia, Tanzania, Africa, Whatever. She was going to use my child for show and tell, she was going to what, compare her, to a little girl living in extreme poverty in Tanzania her life supported by this benevolent church?!

I should have said it. All I could think was "She is not your object lesson!" and I should have said it. I will remember this as the first time that I wasn't fast enough, smart enough, ready enough to defend my daughter. My only defense is that this really was the first time that I felt like I needed to defend and the woman wasn't being purposefully hurtful, and Boohoo did not understand the conversation. I know she didn't. But I can't get the sick feeling out of my stomach that I just stood there, I didn't say anything, I failed that portion of the exam, 'do not pass Go, do not collect $200' or your daughter's pride. I did not speak up for my daughter.

It was all I could think about for the entire service. How could she say that? What are they doing now? I should just march back there, take my babies and leave. And so, when I got back to the classroom and heard that there had been no lesson, no snack, no activity because this woman had been overwhelmed, I was fairly grateful that at least it had ended where I thoughtlessly left it.

And then there had been a problem with Peanut as well and as soon as he saw me started bawling his eyes out. And he's telling me this story about him getting into trouble and the teacher is trying to tell me that there wasn't any trouble, and she's splitting hairs over semantics with a four year old, and I just gather up my babies and I take them out of there.

And you know, I think it's a good church. I like a lot of things that they're doing, programs that they're running, they had a well put together children's program...except for that pesky three year old classroom. I wish we'd put both the kids in the 4 year old classroom instead because I think we'd have left with a whole different opinion of the church. But now, I have a bad taste in my mouth. If we went back I could not leave Boohoo in that room with that woman who needs a cultural intervention and who can't manage a roomful of three year olds well enough to dole out crackers. And if I have a bad taste in my mouth, I don't even know what the right phrase is for Peanut. He's probably told us half a dozen times since this morning with tears in his eyes that he "never ever wants to go back to that church again!"

What would you have said in that situation? What's your firm, but polite response when people say something foolish?