Hi, my name is Danielle, and my son is addicted to bread. I’ve been needing to get that off of my chest for a while, now.
The truth is, ever since Finn was stricken with a 9-day best of a stomach flu–which required us to restrict food, of course–he has been experiencing what I can only identify as food insecurity. I mean, really, folks. This kid is using bread a security blanket.
I MEAN THAT LITERALLY.
Sona and I have taken to hiding all forms of the white, soft stuff. Finn will spot a bag of bread from a mile away, and then there’s no distracting him. He will not stop until he has bread in both hands. Fistfuls of it.
In the mornings, he’s started asking for “buns.” It started with plain ole’ slider buns, but we’ve moved on to King’s Hawaiian Bread (which I think we can all agree must be derived from some kind of highly addictive substance).
Looking back, maybe this bread obsession started early.
Now, I drive him to daycare each morning, staring in the rear-view mirror at my son. The one who conned me into giving him at least TWO buns before we could leave the house. The one who either stuffs a full bun into his mouth, devouring it like someone who has been doing the Atkins diet for years. Or the one who clutches the buns in each hand, cuddling them to his chin like they are some kind of wonderfully carb-y lovie.
He has a problem, and we aren’t really helping him break it. “Pick your battles,” I always say. And I’m not particularly interested in taking on loaves of bread, just yet.
Other than that, though, Finn eats pretty well. I haven’t said much about his diet since I first talked about our doing baby-led weaning. Essentially, we never really gave Finn purees or baby food. We started “developing his palate” at about 8 weeks, giving him tastes of vinegar and peanut butter and prosciutto and Parmesan cheese and champagne.(Mom of the year! Right here!)
Then, at around 5 months, we started giving him softened bites of whatever we were eating. And I mean WHATEVER we were eating: sushi, Indian food, pasta, etc. He tried–and ate–it all.
In that first year, especially, I worked really hard to offer him as many different foods as possible. Of course, he ate a lot of the usual suspects, too: bananas, avocado, puffs. But for meals, he always ate whatever we had, which was almost always homemade. His nanny would complain that–on the days when I got lazy and sent him mac and cheese or something similar–he’d rather have “Momma’s food.”
And he has turned into a bit of a snob, that way.
Now, of course, things are a little trickier.
Finn is a toddler, and they are monsters. So, there’s really only a certain amount of control we can assert over anything, generally, but his diet, specifically.
He still has a pretty well-developed palate for a kiddo, we think. And he still eats whatever we eat for dinner 90% of the time. Every now and then, he rejects what we give him, but that’s usually because of texture–or crankiness–and not flavor aversions.
When he rejects what we’re eating, he gets peas and Earth’s Best frozen organic meatballs. This child would eat meatballs for every single meal, if we let him.
He prefers things that are saucy and strongly flavored. He loves anything he can “dip.” He hates plain chicken, especially if it is dry. He loves peas and carrots and soup and Indian food and yogurt and applesauce and any kind of beans and eggs. AND BREAD.
He also loves whatever is on my plate–even if it’s exactly what is on his.
But we struggle with getting stuck in carb-heavy snack ruts. He doesn’t have many teeth, yet, and he can’t really chew raw veggies very well. He loves fruit, which he gets often, but our go-to snacks aren’t particularly healthy.
Let’s just say we keep (mostly organic) cracker and veggie straw businesses going strong.
He eats a lot of really healthy, diverse foods, but he also eats his fair share of Nilla Wafers and Fairlife chocolate milk (which is AWESOMELY delicious) and pastries, especially on the weekends.
But bread is his primary vice, right now. We’ll work on breaking it, eventually, but we just don’t have the energy to fight it, yet.
So, please don’t judge me when you me in the grocery store, offering my screaming child a “bun”–only because I know it will shut him up.