What Else Do You Want Me To Do?!?
I’ve been making Dylan’s breakfast for 18 years. Since he started eating solid foods, I’ve done a lot of research on healthy breakfasts for babies – and then for toddlers, preschoolers, young children, and finally for kids with ADHD.
What I learned would make any parent’s head spin, but I figured it out to the best of my ability. He needs L-Tyrosine, Focus Factor and animal protein – either eggs or meat – to assist the way the amino acids function in his body. Omega 3 can also assist his brain.
So the logical breakfast: organic, cage-free eggs with Omega 3. I started feeding eggs to Dylan in eggnog, but the eggs were raw and the sugar content was high. He said he could eat scrambled eggs with lots of cheese – so I started making mini-omelets. And then, when he couldn’t quite get downstairs in time to eat a leisurely breakfast, I started putting those scrambled eggs with cheese onto buns so he could eat them on his way to school. For a few years, he’s been eating egg sandwiches two or three times a week.
With only a month left of high school, Dylan said – for possibly the tenth time – “I really don’t want to eat egg sandwiches anymore. They actually make me sick when I eat them in the morning.”
He said this very calmly and rationally. But I blew up.
For two days, I blew up. I raged and sputtered and screeched and hissed. “What else do you want me to do?!?” I squealed in my agony. “You won’t eat anything else!”
While he read me a list of things he would eat – pancakes, waffles, hash browns, croissants, fried potatoes – I screamed over him that none of those things have animal protein! I was driving them to school – for Dylan’s very last month of school – and I still thought he didn’t understand how his vitamins worked: “You need animal protein!”
But in the back of mind, something was stirring – something deep under the surface of my angst.
The kids got out of the car and I couldn’t even say, “Have a nice day.” I didn’t even put the front window down so the kids could pet Loki. In fact, I couldn’t say or do anything at all.
And then, halfway home, I suddenly could do only one thing: I could cry. A dam of tears burst from my eyes and deep, choking sobs erupted from my gut. Sitting at a red light, I was crying so hard, I couldn’t even breathe.
Loki looked up and instantly pulled toward me, nearly breaking his little seatbelt. He climbed into my lap at the red light and stuck his head under my chin, desperately trying to comfort me.
It was the sweetest, most touching thing my new dog has ever done for me.
I don’t know how Loki even knew that those sounds required comforting. But I think I know now how I’m going to survive Dylan’s move to college.