This is the face of a growing boy… And by growing, I mean hungry as a hippo!
For the past week he’s been sick, and with sickness comes a lack of appetite. For days and days it was hard to get him to stick anything in his mouth. Unless, of course, it was something we didn’t want in his mouth, in which case it was much to be desired!
We also have had to cut off his milk for the past few days, which is very hard for my little guy. Not only is milk a significant source of his protein and calories, but it’s a huge comfort factor for him. It’s what he drinks as he’s self-soothing to go to bed, it’s what he wants when he wakes up, and it’s goes for when he bonks his head.
Now that he is finally feeling better, however, his appetite is back with a vengeance! And trust me, vengeance it is…
I’m sure many of you have heard the term “hangry.” According to google, to be hangry is to be “bad-tempered or irritable due to hunger.” Cue this real-life photo of my son:
Oh my goodness, the meltdowns! Last night alone, we fed him dinner and then took him to a park. Near the end, he had a tantrum to end all tantrums, the tantrum bomb, the mother of all tantrums. My wife and I looked at each other, aghast that he was this tired so early. It wasn’t his bedtime yet! And usually, exhaustion was the only thing that drove him to this level of hysteria.
But, the moment we walked in our front door, he jumped out of arms and ran full-tilt to his high chair. Time for second dinner, I guess! My wife warmed up some tamales we had in the fridge, and he ate every bite my wife was willing to throw his way. I offered him some pretzels and he took it. I offered him some fruit and he took it. I offered him his milk and he drained it, only to drain another one as we were reading books to him before bed.
While I’m sure a big part of it was that he had been sick for so long. But if he isn’t growing, then I’m a cotton-headed ninnymuggins.
This morning, before I went to work, after he had already eaten breakfast, he climbed up onto a kitchen chair, reached tippy toe to grab his goldfish from the counter, and threw the back at me, exclaiming loudly. Message received… He gobbled up a pile of goldfish and chugged some more milk before deeming it necessary to continue playing.
If this continues, he better end up in the NFL, because that’s the only way I’m getting reimbursed for the grocery bill!
Then again, I guess I shouldn’t complain… My family refers to me as the garbage disposal…