On The Edge of My (Dinner) Seat

WARNING:  There is a super gross picture of Hank’s tonsils on this post.  Proceed with caution.  You have been warned.  (Also, he was eating Goldfish crackers just before I took the picture, so that explains the orange residue).

Life doesn’t go as planned.  I am having one of those days.  Hank was supposed to have surgery this morning to evict his tonsils and adenoids.  But last night I offered him chocolate pie for dessert.  And he said “no.”  I knew at that very moment he was ill.  And he was.  A temp of 101.7 and a trip to acute care confirmed he had strep.  The reason he needs his tonsils out.  And now the reason he isn’t having his tonsils out.  Gross.

I have recently had some unsolicited advice on why I shouldn’t get his tonsils out.  Who doesn’t love unsolicited advice?  But those suckers are coming out.  You wanna know why?  His huge tonsils are debilitating.  Not because he can’t talk (however, his speech is super muffled and nasally).  It is because he has such a difficult time eating.  God is using my children to make me a more understanding therapist.

When Hank eats, it takes forever.  He will eat almost anything, but he has to chew it to the point of mush.  If he swallows before he has chewed said bite to oblivion, he gags.  And often he pukes.  And then the party is over.  I sit on the edge of my seat at every birthday party, family gathering, and restaurant.  Reminding him to chew, hoping he doesn’t get distracted by Wyatt’s hilariousness or Nic’s antics, forgetting to swallow carefully and upchucking the few bites he successfully got down.

And when he pukes, we have to leave.  Because even though I know he isn’t sick, he puked.  And you should leave when you puke.  He cries, because he wants to be with his cousins and friends.  I cry because he is covered in vomit and now his clothes, car seat, and my car are all going to smell like vomit too.  Life is so much easier when he just pukes at my dinner table.  What a weird life.

Little trooper at one of is many visits to acute care for strep.

And Hank’s gag and puke party is what makes me a better feeding therapist.  Not because every one of my patient’s are gaggers and pukers, but because meals in general are stressful.  And if you are a mom of a kiddo who doesn’t eat, throws fits at meals, gags on bites, or pukes during meals…you know how much it sucks too.  Whether it is a tonsillectomy, feeding therapy, or a family based feeding program…take charge of your meal times, Mamas.  I cannot wait for the day when I am not sitting on the edge of my seat, staring at my child chewing his food, napkin in hand ready to catch whatever doesn’t successfully pass those wrecking balls we call tonsils.


Did I not warn you?

If you have any concerns with your kiddo, let’s chat.  And because I am having a crappy morning….let’s make yours better.  I am all booked up for the rest of January, but the first three people to book their Family Based Feeding package for February will get a 25% discount (will be taken off on your invoice).  Happy Tuesday people!

2 thoughts on “On The Edge of My (Dinner) Seat

  1. My oldest son Nic had his tonsils out when he was 2 – it was the best thing we ever did! He had the same thing with eating – his tonsils were just as good touching each other! Once they were out his eating was entirely different and he really never got sick again! Good luck and hope he gets better soon and you can go ahead with the surgery!


  2. This is exactly why I chose to get Bryson’s tonsils and adenoids out this past May.. supper goes so much better! Praying he can get rescheduled quickly and the recovery goes well for both of you.


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