That Jacob (soon to be six) chose Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham as a bedtime story the other night struck me as a bit ironic, because it followed a dinner that was left untouched. The moral of the story was lost on Jacob, just as I imagined it would be.

For those of you who have been following Jacob’s story from the beginning, I am sure you can empathize with the pain and stress a mother feels when her child simply refuses to eat. To my more recent readers who are not well acquainted with my middle child, he is beyond picky. Nay, he is more seek-medical-treatment picky.

After my most recent consultation with Jacob’s pediatrician, and possibly because of the fervent anxiety in my voice, she wrote an Rx for Occupational Therapy; an actual, written prescription for OT, deliverable to the school district. She feels that, because Jacob cannot be classified as clinically autistic, he may be suffering from Sensory Integration Disorder instead. If his refusal to eat more than a handful of calories a day were not enough to deal with, we are, once again, having battles over clothing.

In the warm summer months, Jacob could often be found playing in our backyard in nothing but his skivvies. We struck a deal that if he wanted to play in the front, he would have to wear a pair of shorts for the obvious reason of learning some measure of social decorum. For the most part, however, we didn’t have to worry about itchy socks, scratchy tags, irritating waistbands, or shoes that don’t bend enough (the newest complaint).

Unbelievably, Jacob complies with most clothing selections I lay out for him each morning. This feat is associated almost completely with the fact that I let him choose which clothes we purchased in the first place. The only dud, so far, has been a pair of “church shoes,” nothing more than a pair of black sneakers, which constrict his toes. It’s not that the shoes are too small; it’s that the toes are constructed of heavy fabric instead of mesh. Of the pair of shoes that he willingly wore, he lost one (still to be found). Thankfully, my daughter’s outgrown sneakers are blue (thank goodness for that anti-pink phase) and are made of mesh. I have no idea what we will do once the winter snows start to fall. Will he or won’t he wear boots? In any event, the first thing Jacob does when he arrives home from school is remove all his clothes.

In respect to Jacob’s issues with food, however, they have only gotten worse. I would love to hug and kiss the makers of Carnation Instant Breakfast, because it is the only thing keeping my son alive right now. Okay, so that may be a slight exaggeration, but it’s not far from the truth. He will barely choke down three bites of Cheerios in the morning before school, giving an insane (to me) reason that it taste like “kitty.” What does kitty taste like, anyway? Apparently, kitty tastes a lot like Cheerios, in case you ever want to know. Jacob has come home from school each day with a full lunchbox. There have even been days he has gone without snack. He does drink his juice box (Mott’s low-sugar 100% juice) and will occasionally eat a package of crackers (Goldfish or Teddy Grahams). Each day I pack a cup of applesauce and a PBJ (two of the foods he used to eat) and each day they come home. Thankfully, he will eat chicken nuggets, fish sticks, or hot dogs for dinner (albeit, only a few bites). Last night was the exception; Jacob ate fish sticks and noodle soup. I almost cried. I had run out of whole milk, however, and he shunned the chocolate milk I made using skim milk. *I don’t normally approve of multiple dinners a week consisting of chicken nuggets, fish sticks, and hot dogs, but the goal right now is just to get him to eat anything.*

Jacob’s kindergarten teacher called Thursday afternoon to talk with me about my concerns, and he informed me that the aide in his classroom is also the aide in the lunchroom. He will have her check on Jacob periodically throughout lunch recess to try to coax him to eat a bit. I am hoping that Jacob will qualify for OT through the school district, as private sessions would be quite costly and, most likely, not covered by health insurance. My husband and I are meeting with a counselor in early October to determine Jacob’s eligibility for services. If anything, I need the counsel just as much as he does. The counseling would provide my husband and me ways in which to cope with not only Jacob’s food issues, but his oppositional behavior and obstinacy, as well.

Having a child who won’t eat fruits and vegetables; foods with bits, pieces, or flecks; or dinners that are too hot or too cold or not the right color is, well, it is frustrating. The other day I wished for a fat child. For once, I wanted to relish a child eating anything and everything and making a real glutton of himself. Silly, I know, as overweight children are on the opposite spectrum of what I am dealing with, a problem in its own right.

We’ve been dealing with this for so very long, however, and I am just tired.