A disclaimer: To save you any concern or suspense, I just want you to know at the start that Isaac is completely fine and that the entire episode I am relating can basically be filed under "The Practical Jokes of Toddlers." Except I wasn't laughing at the time.

For the first few months of his life, Isaac was an incredible eater. Really I should say he was an incredible exclusive nurser, because that's all he was doing. But dang if he wasn't doing a lot of it. He was pudgy and had fat rolls and grew like a champ. Assuming that this would be his approach to all forms of sustenance I dutifully introduced him to solids some time after he was six months old, confident that he would smack his lips with joy and get right to it. But nothing doing. He didn't hate food, he just didn't want any fed to him with a spoon. Unfortunately, it took me weeks to figure out that the problem was that he didn't like spoon feeding. Once he learned to pick up finger foods by himself, we were in business, and so things proceeded for a while. This should have been my first red flag that underneath all those fat rolls was a stubborn little Wachdorf temperament that would choose its own way over basic needs like nutrition. But I really thought it was all about the spoon and I had figured that out, so no harm, right? He wasn't the world's most devoted solids eater, but he ate enough that I didn't worry and he still nursed so I figured he was getting what he needed.

Fast forward to the tail end of 2011. I can't pinpoint exactly when this happened, only that it was somewhere during all the melee of holiday chaos that Isaac suddenly seemed to lose interest in food completely. Now remember that this is not this my first trip around the my-kid-won't-eat block. Kate was a selective and sporadic eater from the word go, interspersing lengthy hunger strikes with days when she would consume enough food to feed a village of toddlers. It freaked me out but eventually I realized that this is just how she is and if I wait for her to get hungry, she will eat. There are still days when she eats like a bird, but she is growing, and as our pediatrician so succinctly pointed out to me: "She isn't going to let herself starve. Kids don't."

So at first I wasn't that freaked out by Isaac's shutdown about food. It was frustrating because no sooner would we all sit down for dinner than he would start saying "all done" and demanding to get down from his high chair. He also majorly increased his demands to nurse, which wasn't convenient. But on the whole I figured he would snap out of it if I just gave him time.

Then it was Christmas and he still wasn't eating that much. And then it was January and pants that had fit him last month were suddenly falling off his waist. At the end of January the kids and I loaded up for our most recent trip to Mississippi. We spent almost two weeks at my mom and dad's house and at the end of it Dan, who had been away on a business trip, joined us for a few days. During that trip Isaac took his not eating to a whole new level. There were days when he honestly did not eat anything other than a goldfish cracker here and there. Even Dan, who is typically the more laid back and non panic-prone of the two of us, was worried. So when we got back to San Antonio, I scheduled a doctor's appointment so we could go in and make sure that we weren't missing something. Leading up to the appointment I actually kept a log where I wrote down every bite Isaac consumed so that I would have documentation of how much this kid was not eating.

A weight and growth check revealed that Isaac had only gained a few ounces since his last major checkup in October, but that he was growing taller, which was a relief. Our doctor was very careful to rule out symptoms of major problems and really took his time to talk with us and ensure that in all other respects Isaac is healthy. And then he basically diagnosed him with a whopping case of being a hardheaded toddler who will eat when he gets hungry. (See aforementioned "stubborn Wachdorf baby.") We talked through some strategies for getting him to eat and left feeling very reassured, which is certainly how you want to leave all doctor's appointments for your children.

Realizing that Isaac wasn't suffering from anything serious gave us the ability to stop freaking out about the eating issue and even find some humor in it. One morning not long after the doctor's visit, Dan was trying to sell Isaac on the idea of having some breakfast for a change. There is no point in asking Isaac if he wants a particular food because he is almost always going to say no, but sometimes we do it anyway just to amuse ourselves while we rummage around in the fridge.

Dan: Do you want Cheerios?
Isaac: No.
Dan: Yogurt?
Isaac: No.
Apples?
No.
Bananas?
No.
Cheese?
No.
Blueberries?
No.

And so on. But then Dan had a brilliant idea.

"Hey buddy," he said. "Do you want some fried elephant noses?"
Isaac, on autopilot: "No! .... Yes! Noses!"

So Dan walked into the kitchen, poured that kid a bowl of the same Honey Nut Cheerios he had just declined, and plunked it down on the table.

And. He. Freaking. Ate. It. I am not even kidding you. I nearly died from the shock.

As promised, this story does have a happy ending. For whatever reason the hunger strike appears to be over or at least on temporary hiatus. In the grand tradition of cars that stop making the weird noise as soon as you go to the mechanic, Isaac started eating much much better the week after his doctor's appointment. Lately the first thing he says to me every morning is "Hungry! Eat!"

We generally start the day off with a bowl of Fried Elephant Noses.