I love food. Breakfast-yep. . . Asian-of course. . . late night snacking-favorite!
My kids, hate food.
I don't know how it happened.
Milo is getting better. Compared to a year ago, he is working miracles. Did you know that there is such a thing as "food therapy"? We've seriously considered it. I can't complain, he eats a ton more than he used to, but any time he sees something the tiniest bit different on his plate, or even if I cut things differently, he'll crinkle his eyebrows at me and say, "I really don't like that mom. Just like when I was a baby I loved tomatoes, but now I don't love them". Hindsight I never should have told him that in the first place, because I hear it a lot now. The other issue is that Milo won't feed himself. I don't know if it's because he doesn't want to get dirty, or if it's just pleasant to have someone place food on your tongue. I guess I'm just so happy that he is showing interest in food that I don't mind making rice balls and cutting noodles into tiny pieces and perfectly placing them in his mouth-at least he's eating.
. . . then you've got the little sister. . . .
Then you've got me. I caught myself eating a Cheeto out of the diaper bag the other day. When it was stale, it dawned on me that I haven't bought Cheetos for months. I swallowed it all the same. . . and enjoyed it:)