Wotsits, flapjack and more projectile spewing

Albie’s current TV favourite is Hey Duggee – and the notorious Stick Song is a hit.

For the uninitiated, the Stick Song is largely based on the lyrics ‘Stick, stick, stick, stick (x2), sticky, sticky, stick stick’.

But in our house at the moment, it’s more a case of ‘sicky, sicky, sick sick’.

Our old friend projectile vomit is back with a vengeance, and making progress really quite difficult when it comes to adding pounds, not shedding them. And it’s as confusing as ever…

Milk Ladder: skin reaction

We had a good run, and we recently made it to the second stage of the Milk Ladder – one step further to Albie becoming completely tolerant of cow’s milk.

After introducing the croissant without complication, we treated Albie to some Wotsits. He’s even munched a few Quavers.

We initially misread the guidance, and gave him more than he should have started off on. As I understand it, a couple at a time would have been a sensible start.

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Chilling with Daddy and my Quavers

Despite an orange-puff overdose, we didn’t see anything like the ‘poonami’ reaction we saw when we first gave stage two a bash. Instead, though, we noticed a skin reaction, with eczema-like patches on his back and on the back of one of his knees.

We gave the cheesy crisps a break for a couple of days and things seemed to clear up. While the absence of a tummy reaction was a really welcome sign, given Hanna’s struggles with eczema in recent years we’re very keen to avoid skin conditions spiralling out of control.

‘One-vom’ or two?

Aside from the skin issue, we’ve not seen any reactions which have noticeably coincided close to Albie coming into contact with Milk Ladder items.

In the last Milk Ladder blog, we reported the occasional sicky episode, mainly following mashed/jacket potato and tomato-rich foods.

But in the last few days, the episodes are becoming more frequent. Two nights in the past week he’s spewed in his cot, while Saturday was like the projectile days of old.

Fresh from the dietitian, armed with some reassurance about the previous sicky episodes and advice about more fattening foods, we cooked up some flapjacks with some added peanut butter.

The first few mouthfuls (consciously not trying to overload his system with rich stuff) came swiftly back up, along with the blueberries he had earlier consumed.

This continued over the next couple of hours as he leaked a couple of small piles around all the downstairs rooms of our house.

Dinner was chicken stew, with no massive chunks to help stop him choking/gagging, which he’s been doing before violent chunders recently.

He seemed to be doing really well – but it wasn’t long before he was choking once more and produced what’s known in our house as a ‘two-vom episode’. This is basically two rounds of chunder, instead of the general worse-case ‘three-vom’.

While a bit graphic, this is Thursday’s ‘one-vom’, and it gives some level of scale in terms of what the poor monkey is dealing with.

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A battle of balance

Sometimes it’s an impossible battle to win.

With his weight up and down like a yo-yo, the more calorific stuff we can get down (and, hopefully, stay down!) the better.

But at the moment, his tummy seems to be rejecting anything too rich.

It seems a pretty fine line, though, and one which again is inconsistent.

On Friday, after seeing the dietitian, he wolfed down a shop-bought flapjack bar of reasonable size. On Saturday, he’s chundering a few pinches of homemade stuff with a small dollop of peanut butter stirred into the batch.

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Last week, he copes fine with a pouch of paella rice. On Thursday, rice triggers spewing.

Chicken stew a few weeks ago? No problemo. Saturday, a two-vom, tears, a high chair in the back garden being hosed down and an emergency bath with a host of toy animals.

We are getting lots of helpful guidance from the dietitian, and while his weight is up and down it is steadily going up – albeit barely noticeable gains. But it does sometimes seem to be a battle which is impossible to win, with an almost random result.

A boy who doesn’t like puddings

Fortunately the fussy eater stage of recent weeks has subsided somewhat. It’s instead been replaced by the game of ‘Let’s stand up in the high chair and annoy Daddy’.

He is taking food a lot better than he was, although he still has his moments. Puddings seem a particular turn-off at the moment.

As he’s not allowed many of the classic treats, we bought him some mini chocolate pots – special versions from the Coconut Collaborative. He’s not at all interested, and we can only presume he thinks we’re trying to feed him poo!

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I can’t eat cheese, but I can say it to the extent Daddy’s phone understands me and takes selfies!

Even mixing it into the old faithful Weetabix was found out. Cheeky little bugg…..

So while it is all very well trying to push the high-calorie foods, finding something that meets his liking – and then staying down – is incredibly tough.

We’re forever damning our local Tesco for discontinuing Auntie’s rice pudding, made with coconut milk. Those fattening pots were a lifesaver. Apparently Waitrose sells them, so we’ll be taking a look.

Can we crack it

Parenthood has been a real journey. Looking back to how clueless we were at the start, like I’m sure many first-time parents feel, I’m so proud of how far all three of us have come.

We’ve got the projectile spew protocol down to a tee, while Albie’s a dab hand at producing it and rubbing his tiny hands in it and spreading it around.

Solo dad trips are no longer the horror they once were, while we’ve still not permanently lost any of Albie’s toy mice.

But on a personal level, I just don’t feel I can say I’ve cracked it until we’ve got fully on top of his weight, and he’s breaking my back even more than he is now because he’s ballooned past the bottom centiles on his chart.

wotsits

 

 

 

 

 

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