Mangia!

I have come to a profound conclusion about motherhood: Worrying is in the DNA. It can lie dormant for years. Then, enter a child, and all hell breaks loose. Worry flows through your bloodstream like heroin.

And what's the first thing Moms worry about? Food. Is he eating enough? Mangia! Mangia!

Shakib's mother called the other day ranting loudly about how skinny he is in his current photos and wondering if we were starving him.  Poor dear woman. Imagine sending your son halfway around the world into the hands of strangers, and then seeing in photos that he is much thinner than when he left home.

I swear this is not my fault. He arrived in LA skinny. He says that he barely ate during the month he was in India. He was homesick, and he did not like the food.

So now we have the task of fattening him up while he observes a 30-day fast.

Shakib assured his mom that we were forcing as much food on him as he could stand. He misses Afghani food so I got him a huge meal from the local Afghani restaurant for Saturday night. That was a big hit with both Shakib and Mom. Especially the rice. I also picked up chai and baklava.

OK, so it took me a week to learn New Mom Lesson 101: Feed them what they like and introduce new foods slowly.

But I am in the zone now.  I will be shopping this week at the local middle eastern grocery stores. Meanwhile, last night we had pizza...lots of pizza. And molten chocolate cake. This child has a sweet tooth!

Jon and I have the meal responsibilities divvied up. I do dinner, and Jon does the pre-dawn breakfast. This is how Jon described his morning routine in a recent email to a friend:

"At 3:40 a.m. my alarm goes off and I saunter into the kitchen to make breakfast for Shakib:

• Two fried eggs - over medium, cooked in butter (he can tell the difference from margarine)
• One bowl of Quaker oatmeal
• One peanut butter & butter sandwich on whole wheat bread 
• One banana
• One glass of milk
• One glass of orange juice
• One glass of water

"It takes him about a half hour to consume this. At 4:15 a.m., I fall down on the couch and sleep until 6:00 a.m., at which time a second alarm goes off and I start my formerly normal day."

Knowing that I, Mama Bear, will grill him on exactly how much porridge Baby Bear has consumed, Jon usually leaves a detailed note on my desk.

To all of our friends who have arisen for hundreds of midnight feedings while we slept soundly: We bow to you and grant you full permission to laugh at us, thankful that Ramadan ends on September 10th.

Meanwhile, I worry.

I survived Shakib's first bicycle excursion with a friend (oy vey!), and so did he.

As for the first day of school, maybe I should just bite all my nails now.