Desperate Times

There are many things that I do as a mother that shock me. We won't talk about all of them here. But it should probably go without saying that I never imagined feeding my child ice cream for dinner. (I used to think more along the lines of adding flax seed or oat bran to his food. ha!) Well, folks, that's what it's come to these days at our house. As I have mentioned before, it would be putting it mildly to say that Wade has been a difficult eater. He'll hit a nice stride for a few days and eat pretty well, and then it's back to only accepting a few bites here and there. For a child who weighed an appropriate amount, this sort of variability could be tolerated. But when your baby is classified as failure to thrive, it is not ok. The photo below depicts Philip urging Wade (bless his little heart) to receive a milkshake via a medicine dropper. Needless to say, all that sugar was probably to blame for the late bedtime as well, but you have to admit, aside from straight up oil or butter (both of which we've given him) a milkshake takes the cake for a whole lotta calories.

It's ok to laugh. Because if we didn't do that, we might just cry, right?