Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

My Son The Junkie

Diminutive One and I fight many and varied battles every day. But one of the biggest battles I face with him, particularly in the summer, is food. Diminutive One likes to eat. Often. And he isn't asking for broccoli or brussel sprouts, I assure you.

No sir. I have a bona fide junk food junkie on my hands. I have to watch every bite that goes into his mouth. I have to watch even when I'm not watching, because things disappear mysteriously the moment my back is turned. Every shower, every nap, every personal grooming session, is, for Diminutive One, an opportunity to indulge his penchant.

I can't tell you how many times I have discovered an empty box, bag or package sitting deceptively upon my pantry shelf, looking for all the world as if it has never been disturbed, when in truth, it has thoroughly plundered and relieved of its contents.

I am pestered at least a hundred times a day for candy, cookies, ice cream...whatever. I don't keep those things in the house much, because that's just courting conflict. Diminutive One simply cannot stand to see treats languishing uneaten. The moment something even slightly sinful enters the house, Diminutive One calculates how many servings there are and how many each person should receive. He expects to be given that number of servings and then hounds me incessantly, until said food is either consumed or disposed of.

I don't think I'm exaggerating by saying that food is an obsession for him. In truth, I think he uses food to medicate himself against the anxiety he experiences just trying to get through every day. It worries me greatly.

So far, I think I'm doing a pretty good job. He's chunky, there's no denying that. But we keep him as active as we can, and I try to make sure a fair amount of organic matter makes it into him on a regular basis. I could do better with the fast food. We're so busy and it's so difficult to keep everyone fed with conflicting schedules....SIGH. But given his love of food, it could be much, much worse. I see lots of kids who are way, way, way heavier than he is.

But I don't judge. It's a battle that is incredibly wearying because it is never ending. Sometimes, I just don't have the energy to say no. Sometimes, after we've battled over clothing and hygeine and homework and chores and computer time and.....I can't muster up enough willpower to battle over a cookie.

Diminutive One is smart. And he's not one to let an opportunity slip past him, especially when it comes to food. One thing he loves about baseball season is the numerouse opportunities and his ability to capitalize upon them. There's concession food. Late night runs to Waffle House because Pubescent One is starving after playing a double header. A trip to Brewsters to celebrate a victory. Oh yes, he rides those coattails with no compunction whatsoever.

The other night, Pubescent One's team had a terriffic victory that put them in the Championship game. Pubescent One had pitched the entire 7 innings and done an amazing job. He has developed endurance and control far beyond what most kids his age are capable of. He only gave up one run and had 9 strike outs. The entire team was high on victory, but Pubescent One was particularly intoxicated by the accolades he was receiving.

It was very late when the game ended, and we had a 90 minute drive ahead of us, so no group celebration was taking place that night. We piled into the car, hot and weary, but happy. Pubescent One, predictably, said, "Mom, I'm STARVING."

Diminutive One, quick to pick up on the potential for exploitation in that simple statement, piped up and said,

"We should stop and get some ice cream. You know, Pubescent One TOTALLY deserves it!"

There was dead silence for a moment, and then we all began to laugh. We laughed because he thought he was being so clever and sly. We laughed because he wasn't about to let that opportunity go by. We laughed because ice cream is his manna. We laughed....just because he is Diminutive One.

He sat in the back seat with his cheeks flaming, grinning, knowing he has played his hand too eagerly.

And did we get ice cream? Yeah. We did.


  • At 10:10 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I have one like that too, my 12-year-old. Thankfully he joined the swim team and is getting some great exercise and has leaned out a bit. And it is so hard to be strong, especially in the face of ice cream. :)

  • At 11:34 AM, Blogger Middle Girl said…

    Hey, who can say no to ice cream?

    I hear ya. My daughter went through that for a bit and we were 'on the road' much when she played soccer around the freakin', yeah. Plus: she was playing soccer. Minus: she was mostly, the goalkeeper.

  • At 2:27 PM, Blogger Kathryn in NZ said…

    I have the opposite battle - getting them to eat a full meal at all. It's getting lots better.
    And yes, junk food is their preference.
    My aspbergers nephew isn't, but my high functioning autistic neighbour is: on a colouring-free, additive-free, dairy and gluten-free diet - all to help the "behaviours" our current society doesn't want to cope with. And it has worked to a degree.
    Can you imagine DO agreeing to such a regime??

  • At 4:21 PM, Blogger Unknown said…

    As you well know, I could have written that post. Only thing different is that when something good comes into the house, my son eats it all before anyone can have anything at all. I made a loaf of challah a couple of days ago and left it to cool. He ate the ENTIRE 2 lb loaf. By himself. With a unopened jar of cherry preserves. I was ready to KILL him.

    It's tough and it lasts for years. The binge eating can become dangerous, but so far it sounds normal for a teen boy with a hollow leg.

    If I ate like that I wouldn't be able to fit through the door.

  • At 8:17 PM, Blogger Tania said…

    DO and I should never be roommates. I'm the same way, and purposely don't bring goodies into the house to avoid my binging. Sadly, I'm supposed to know better.

  • At 9:23 PM, Anonymous Tracy (t-gardens) said…

    Could have written this post, exactly! I scream every time I hear, "I'm STARVING!" That, of course, is never complete without the story of the Belize children we saw who were REALLY starving!

    I'm trying to recall if I've heard him say, "Whew, I'm stuffed!" I don't think there's an end to his stomach. It is very challenging, but I'm always on him about making good choices.

    Maybe that's how at 9yr 3mo he got to be 5 feet tall and 112lbs.! Doctor said today, "You're the size of an average TWELVE year old!"

    Can't wait to feed him when he's twelve....

  • At 4:09 PM, Blogger SUEB0B said…

    I can feel his pain. I can actually hear the food calling to me from the cabinets.

  • At 6:21 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    A little junk food is not so bad for children and teens, provided that they are also pysically active (or, at least, not totally inactive).


  • At 9:20 PM, Blogger Chara said…

    This is going to sound completely neurotic, but my sister tried this with her daughter and it seemed to work...
    They gave her a chart with all the things she was allowed to eat for the day- basically they broke down the food pyramid- and allowed her to have a certain number of snacks. If she ate an extra helping or two of veggies and sometimes fruit, she could "earn an extra snack. The thing hangs on the wall and they start over every day. It kind of makes it a no-brainer for her, and it teacher her daughter about proper nutrition.

    Just a thought.


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