Wednesday, December 3, 2008

I Was NOT Made for Fear Factor

So, I don’t know if Fear Factor is even on anymore, but I did enjoy squealing over it years ago when we still had TV (college budget and kid’s eyes can cause drastic actions, like canceling your cable). I am thinking maybe it was canceled? Well, if they are still serving up cow brains to ingest, and possibly infecting people with Mad Cow Disease (maybe they test them), then, they SHOULD be canceled…BSE..shudder…

Anyway I know I wouldn't qualify. Why? I can't swim, I'm not competitive, I won't wear a bikini, and I have no sense of adventure, but, besides that, I know for a fact that I could never, ever, reach deep, deep down inside and muster up the courage and ability to scarf down any sort of bug or animal part that doesn’t end in “chop” (like pork chop) “burger” (like hamburger) or begin with “fried”, like fried gizzards. If its fried, I might be able to choke it down…

I learned this about myself the minute I put Jacob on “solid” er, baby food. I was all about giving him a balanced array of foods, mashed mush that would give him the most bang my buck (I used to sit by his crib and pray for him…and uh, count out how many calories he had consumed that day to assure I didn’t starve him. Believe me, he was NOT starving!). So Jacob ate his fair share of apple cereal with cinnamon (cinnamon for brain development) mashed prunes (for iron and easy poo) creamed spinach (for all those "benes" of dark, green leafy vegetables) and, for a protein punch, creamed turkey.

Have you ever TRIED the creamed turkey, let alone looked at it? When you open the jar, it looks like something you left in the fridge for about three months. This is one of those things I did to Jacob that I will always feel bad about, feeding him creamed turkey. My cute little man ate that creamed turkey without a peep of complaint, and I mixed it with his apple sauce, spinach, and whatever else was the food de jour.

My mom told me that when I was little and still on baby food, she would come home from work (dad worked nights, mom worked days, I got LOTS of fun time w/ both parents as an only child) and find me just starving. My mom would ask, “did you feed her?” and my dad would say, “of COURSE I fed her!” Sometime later she was present when my dad was feeding me and came to realize the source of my ravenous appetite-I’d get a bite, he’d get a bite, I’d get a bite, HE would get a bite…apparently he never tried the creamed turkey, or he has no taste buds.

That creamed turkey is the equivalent of Freddy Kruger, your garbage disposal contents, and all the fear-factor foods blended-together, COMBINED!

One day as Jacob was eating it, mixed WITH his creamed spinach (another not so yummy jarred food) I decided to try it. I thought, well, this can’t be all that bad, probably just like baked turkey. And, I LOVE turkey! Thanksgiving is my favorite meal! Surely I was raising my son to be a lover of all foods yum.

…when Jacob was six months old, and I was nursing, I made that mistake of holding him over my head and cooing at him. The boy puked up digested breast milk, and it shot right into my mouth and down my esophagus before I even had a chance to digest (haha) what had just happened. There is nothing quite like the taste of bile and curdled milk together.

I am serious, I would drink a pint of that before I would ever let that creamed turkey touch my lips again.

As I raised the spoon to taste test my son’s turkey lunch, the smell prompted a gag reflex so forceful that it caused my uvula to shoot out of my mouth and hit the wall (the uvula is that dangly thing in the back of your throat, in case anyone was overly alarmed at what a uvula might be). I actually got scared and began shaking and sweating. That instant I started considering whether or not I should even serve this vile paste to my son ever again. Protein…was it really that important? Couldn’t I just give him peanut butter and eggs and have an Epi-pen handy, in case he was allergic to either, or both?? Wouldn’t that be more humane?

I ended up switching to creamed chicken, which wasn’t quite as offensive, but I still had to be prepared since the site of anything pale and pasty caused me to start heaving. Thankfully, he was only on baby food for a few months. Audrey wouldn’t go near the stuff. Good girl! Let’s keep Fear Factor OUT of our menu!


Anonymous said...

Boy. I sure am glad I had refried beans and melted cheese today for lunch. This blog makes my uvula quiver.

w said...

thank you for explaining what a uvula was. not that i didn't know what it was. because i did. i'm just liking that you explained what it was. that's all.

the turkey baby food - um. that's good for your skin. i rub it all over my face. it acts as a mo**turizer. it can also be substituted in for shaving cream.

Insanitykim said...

*gagging* OUCH! My uvula!!!

Cheeky Greek said...

I know this is an old post but I just have to comment. I could never give that stuff to my daughter, I couldn't even touch the jar in the store, it was so nasty looking! I did know what it smelled like also since I had a friend that tried to feed it to her son. Spit-up down your throat?? I was always worried about that happening so I made sure my mouth wasn't open when she was over my face. If that had happened to me I think I would have screamed, hyperventilated, vommited the spit-up up again, and cried. So maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but still. Well, at least it was breat milk and not formula.

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