No, the Guv didn't buy Rent tickets, though he did give me the green light. Something more amazing happened:
DASH ATE DINNER.
Oh, the irony: this morning, I called CHOP's feeding program to schedule a follow-up for Dash, as his eating is backsliding and his weight gain has gone nowhere. As in, the kid has not gained one ounce since March. Not an ounce. Not one. He has grown in height, which basically means that it's very, very hard to look at him naked. You can see every rib, every vertebrae. Our behavioral psychologist at CHOP described him as stubborn, and she doesn't know the half of it. Days have passed in which Dash has eaten fifteen Cheerios, a few cups of soy milk, and nothing more. Total. For days.
I promised myself long ago not to freak out about his growth. He is happy and is meeting developmental milestones. He appears healthy to everyone, which, of course, is part of my angst. When your friends and family tell you, "but he looks fine," and you know, as his mother, that he's pretty freakin' far from fine, despair results. It's a lonely battle, but I know that it's worth fighting because Something Is Not Right.
And then, tonight, I made tacos for dinner. Sitting in his high chair, Dash demanded a taco. I had already put some chicken-flavored Uncle Ben's rice in the nuker, in hopes that he might eat a few tablespoons. But I also always offer him what we're eating, so I dutifully prepared a taco, in a crunchy corn shell that immediately fell apart. Dash expressed some extreme dissatisfaction with this outcome, so I whipped out some soft corn tortillas, which I softened under a damp towel in the microwave (else they break, too), and filled with cheese and meat.
And the child ate the whole thing. The thing made of three ingredients that he doesn't eat: corn, meat, and cheese. And then, he ate another half of one. When I took him out of his high chair, I lifted his shirt, and his little belly, which is usually concave, was convex. It was the most beautiful belly I have ever seen.
But the night of magic was not to end there. As I laid down with Dash to put him to sleep, I gave him his usual kiss goodnight and told him that I love him. And he rolled over, put his arms around my neck, and said "I love you, Mommy," gave me a kiss, and said, "I love my good mommy so much."
Since I can count on one hand the amount of times that Dash has told me he loves me unprompted, that was a pretty sweet ending to one of the best days I've ever had since he was born. I wrapped my arms around him tight as could be -- something else he never allows -- and let him fall asleep like that, after he took my hand of his own accord. Feeling his little fingers wrapped around mine, I just soaked in the wonder of it all.
P.S. Yes, I'm still going to keep the feeding program appointment because, sadly, I'm pretty sure that we'll need it.
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