The struggle is real folks.

I have heard and read how babies are constantly changing, evolving. How they are fluid, and unstable. How their young minds and bodies are seeking individuality and uniqueness. That they are slowly but surely becoming “them”.

I had heard of toddler tantrums and terrible twos. I have smiled sympathetically at my cousins and aunts as they struggled with their little ones. I have tried to remain calm and unaffected while little humans went berserk at train compartments, airplanes and shopping malls.

I was told they might not always be the sedate eaters that they first seem to me. Or the gentle angels they are as a sweet and cuddly six month old.

All said and done, I was not prepared. I AM not prepared.

Tantrums would have been fine. Crying might be tolerable. But a hyper- active 14 month old on an extreme diet bordering on starvation… I cannot quite stomach.

I’m told this is a “thing” with little people, mostly people who are in the second year of their lives. This whole fussy- eater syndrome. But I tell ya folks, this ain’t just “fussy”. This is full blown war. A war where there are no rules for one party, while the other is fighting blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs and their feet in quicksand.

Every time I mention this to any body, I’m given loads of well- meaning advice. Short of voodoo and ‘let- her- go- hungry’, I seem to have tried everything else. I’m praying/ hoping/ wishing that this is a phase. A phase that doesn’t last long, because I’m hanging on to the last threads of my sanity.

I really want my little baby back. The one that squealed and jumped at the sight of her bowl, and relished every drop of water like it was the most exquisite drink in the universe. That baby loved rice, and stewed apples, and bananas, and lentil soup, and carrots…. She wanted food to be placed in front of her, and she wanted to eat them like Mama and Papa would do.

This high- chair hating, water- detesting, food throwing, spitting, eating-nothing- but-two-strawberries-a day little antigrubzilla I don’t recognize.

Of course, the minute I get the food out of her sight, she is my sweet, delightful, little angel again 🙂

* I shudder at the thought of the day when strawberries go out of season, and they disappear from store shelves ….

Till next time..

Dr J.

Read HER version http://jaznajalil.com/2015/04/12/of-alter-egos-and-food-battles-3/