Root Canal or Dinner with a Toddler? Root Canal, Please.

If you know of one parent, just one, who claims to have a peaceful meal with a toddler, I urge you to demand proof.  I need some concrete evidence that such a toddler--one who happily eats a balanced or even partially balanced or even more than three bites of a meal--actually exists.  


You see, eating has always been an issue for Ian.  When he was a newborn, he would leisurely alternate between nursing and snoozing at the trough....for an hour.  I kept listening for the swallowing sounds you are supposed to hear to know that you are breastfeeding correctly.  Never heard them.  He rarely seemed very hungry and, as he got older, he would easily get distracted while nursing.  In contrast, I could not only hear Claire swallowing when she started nursing in the hospital, I actually heard slurping and gulping.  Girlfriend has yet to meet a meal she doesn't like (ribs anyone?).  


When it was time for Ian to start baby food, I excitedly prepared his first bowl of oatmeal and watched in disappointment as he spit it back out.  I know what you are thinking.  That baby cereal does taste like cardboard.  But I watched this same scene play itself out over and over again as I fed him pears, carrots, peas, applesauce, peaches, etc.  It took him six weeks just to tolerate eating baby food.  And then when it came to solid food....forget about it.  He literally subsisted on Cheerios and milk (because dairy is the one food group he will eat) for weeks.  And this has just gotten worse over time.


Now that he is a strong-willed two (almost three) year old, meals are just downright painful.  On a daily basis, I hear some assortment of the following all interspersed with the oh so pleasant sounds of whining, crying and screaming:


"NO MEAT!!  NO MEAT!!  NO MEAT!!"


"NO FISH!!  NO FISH!!  NO FISH!!"


"NO FRUIT!!  NO FRUIT!!  NO FRUIT!!


     "CHEESE STICK, MOMMY!!  CHEESE STICK, MOMMY!!"


     "GOLDFISH, MOMMY!!  GOLDFISH, MOMMY!!"


     "TEDDY GRAHAMS, MOMMY!!  TEDDY GRAHAMS, MOMMY!!"


          "NO EATING DINNER!!  NO EATING DINNER!!"
          
          "NO LIKING BROCCOLI!!  NO LIKING BROCCOLI!!"


          "NO WANTING SAMWICH!!  NO WANTING SAMWICH!!"


Add to this mix the negotiating, the creative coercing (I actually claimed that Mickey Mouse made his meatloaf the other day to make it more appealing) and his frequent attempts at escaping from the table, and we have a recipe for the not-so-perfect meal.  And to top this state of affairs off, the rules change quickly and without notice.  Yesterday he loved hamburgers, today he won't touch them.  Last week he hated sweet potatoes thereby prompting me to not buy any more.  This week, guess what?  A meltdown occurs when there are no sweet potatoes to be had.  And this is why, more days than not, I'd rather sign up for a root canal than share another meal with my little darling.


I simply don't understand this whole phenomenon.  To my detriment, I consider eating one of my favorite past times.  Chris enjoyed many a good meal as well.  So how did we wind up with this kid who considers two bites ("TINY bites, Mommy?) of a minuscule chicken nugget a full meal?  Am I destined to fight with him at the dinner table for years on end?  Will he ever be able to choke down items from each of the food groups in one sitting?


If you have any suggestions on how to solve this looming crisis, I beg of you to share.  You can find Claire and I in the kitchen eating ice cream from the carton.