Spencer, my 23-month old, who has a feeding disorder, used a fork today for the first time. He stabbed his GFCF Koreanish-style zucchini pancake piece and put it in his mouth. I had been doing it for him but got distracted and walked away and he did it himself because he couldn't wait for me. I was so proud of him. I clapped and danced to show him how happy I was. I think he got the message. He ate a lot at that meal.
I still have trauma from Spencer's food strike days (only 6 months ago) when all he would drink was pediasure and eat baby cheese doodles. Things got better after his allergies were diagnosed (gluten, dairy, soy, eggs, etc.) and he started with his new feeding therapist, Anastasia Pieri with Theracare. She's consistent and caring and has always tried to make her strategy work for my entire family since Logan always presented his own challenges into the mix.
Anyway, as proud as I was about the fork incident, in my heart I feel like I could have pushed him to do this earlier. Sometimes, I get so bogged down in routines. I forget the big picture. I have to try to remember that learning how to feed oneself is more important than finishing a meal. I think I'm hung up on food issues. Maybe that is why I've had a weight problem all of my life but that is another post.