Day Six: "Can I Have a Treat Because I Love You?"

That's what Jarrah says to us. She has no shame. Treat acquisition methods, I believe, is the largest sector of her brain at this time. From the moment she wakes up in the morning, she's asking for "kissies" (Hershey's kisses) and "lowlypops" and Slurpees (they just opened a 7-11 around the corner.) She is willing to make deals for treats. We potty-trained her with M&Ms even though I told the world that my child would never, ever associate food with the bathroom. Turns out I'm a hypocrite, but a successful one, because there is nothing Jarrah won't do for some candy or ice cream or anything with frosting on it.

I can turn around a tantrum in 10 seconds by mentioning candy. I can get her to mind her Ps and Qs for an hour in Target (an hour! out of cart!) by dangling a Slurpee reward at the end. She jumps up and down and screams "Yay-Yay-Yay-YAY!" when I mention grocery shopping at Trader Joes, because if you find the green monkey they've hidden, they will let you dig through a basket for a treat.

From the moment we met Jarrah, she has been treat-centered. Riding the bus back to our hotel after picking her up, I offered her multi-colored Goldfish from my hand (rather clinically, I'd read that this helps to encourage fine-motor skills.) She reached out and chose a green goldfish with two fingers and daintily bit off just the head. Then she examined the tail before eating that, too. No delays there. The rest of the trip is a blur of stuffing tiny plastic containers with Cheerios and crackers and buns at the buffet meals, so that a perfectly round baby could demand "MEH!" (the all-purpose word for "More!" and "Mama!" and "Now!") every moment that she was conscious.

In those days, her lust for treats extended into eating in general. Since I didn't really know what I was doing, and my new baby scorned (often with a flailing arm and a cry of annoyance) any offers of rice cereal and strained peaches that I'd lugged from home, I piled her plate with pancakes and spaghetti and steak and sliced cucumbers and tuna casserole. She dispatched it all without hesitation, despite having only eight teeth.

When we got back to CA, people often commented on her astonishing lack of pickiness--if it was food, she ate it. Actually, it didn't have to be food. She frequently licked and sucked on any part of her shirt she could reach, and I once entered the room just in time to see her poised to stuff a big handful of air conditioner insulation in her mouth that had been left on the floor by an installer. However, it was not unusual for her to yum up plates of broccoli and Caesar salad and there was no fruit--however exotic--too strange for her palate.

She lived by the toddler code of law: "If it's my food, it's mine. If it's your food, it's mine. If our plates hold the exact same meal, mine is mine AND yours is mine. If you are a stranger feeding your kid graham crackers in the mall, they are mine." Unlike other toddlers I've observed, when she has a treat in her sights, she's in the zone. She blocks out all other sources of diversion until that treat has met its fate, like a spider wrapping a fly. I've never seen such concentration.

Now I view those early days with a mixture of nostalgia and relief. Nostalgia because she certainly won't touch salad these days (she will suck the dressing off the leaves) and has to be reminded to eat food that actually has nutrients, but relief that she no longer demands every morsel of food in her line of vision.

But the treats...the treats have only appreciated in value. Sometimes I wonder if one day I should just say "Sure!" and let her eat gummies, licorice, cupcakes, ice cream and nothing else until she gets sick of it. But I can't let myself do it, you see, because I understand her position completely. Given my druthers, I'd eat nothing but treats all the live-long day, because treats are good. That's why they're called treats. The fact is, my child has somehow inherited my insatiable treat drive without my DNA, and we both need to be reigned in. Now how did that happen?