Foodaholics Anonymous

I've been thinking about doing a post on Jack's eating habits for a while now.  Originally, I was planning on focusing on his gusto for all things edible, and of course his delicious chubbiness.  But darnit if the child isn't starting to slim down.  Don't get me wrong, the toddler belly is still in full effect, and his thighs still sport their characteristic crease.  But beneath his layers of adipose tissue I'm beginning to see - dare I say it? - muscle.  Before, Jack was positively Rubenesque; he had the physique of a potsticker, all smooth and doughy.  I fear it won't be long before Jack loses his toddler fat all together and starts to resemble something slightly less Jabba the Hut and slightly more human.  Sigh.

The day those thighs stop touching will be a sad day indeed...

Despite the fact that Jack may be slimming down, his appetite is just as healthy as ever.  Unlike his parents, who have been known to devour their dinner in five minutes, Jack knows how to savor a meal.  He somehow manages to cram fistfuls of food into his mouth while simultaneously dragging out a meal for thirty minutes.  Each bite is accompanied by a hearty "Mmmm!"  Often he'll pause to contemplate his food before tasting it, marveling at the juiciness of a slice of peach or the curious shape of a pasta spiral, as if he wants to memorize it for future reference.  Either that, or he's just imagining how delicious it will taste before shoving it in his craw.

The Stages of Food Addiction:

Stage 1:  Anger

Stage 2: Denial

Stage 3: Uneasy Acceptance

Stage 4: "Hi.  I'm Jack, and I'm a Foodaholic."

Jack's appreciation for fine cuisine has only increased of late.  A true gourmand, he rarely meets a food he doesn't like, and he's willing to try just about anything.  Sometimes this is charming.  Sometimes, like when I'm trying to eat my eggplant parmesan in peace, for example, it's just freaking annoying.  I realize I'm lucky not to have a picky eater on my hands, but there are times when I wish I only had to choose between macaroni, fish sticks, or chicken fingers for dinner, instead of the whole of the culinary universe.

Jack double fisting his breakfast.

And then there's the fact that my own diet has taken second fiddle to my child's.  Yesterday, as I was preparing Jack's breakfast of scrambled egg with olive oil and truffle salt with a side of fresh blackberries, and later, as I poured myself a bowl of peanut butter puffs eaten standing up, I had to wonder what the hell has happened to my life.  I know I'm not the only parent who is so focused on her child's nutrition that she is completely neglecting her own.  Yesterday Jack ate fresh green apple slices and cheddar cheese for snack and penne with homemade pesto and kalamata olives for lunch.  It wasn't until three p.m., after I'd finished writing and worked out, that I snarfed down an instant mac n' cheese packet in record time because Jack was waking up from his nap.  This is no way to live, people!  If it weren't for my daily vitamin, I shudder to think what my iron and calcium levels would be.

Of course it's not all bad.  That penne was leftover from dinner the night before, and John and I eat plenty of fresh veggies with dinner.  But when I'm on my own during the day, and I've got a mini Mario Batali clutching to my legs and begging for "moin" ("more" in Jackanese), the truth is I tend to put my own nutrition second and focus on my butterball.  After all, who knows how much longer he'll be around.