4 The only thing she would eat was plain white rice | Until my child started eating

Series: "Until my child started eating"
▼ Click here for the full series ▼

The period when she was a "rice-only eater"

After that day when I decided to take a break from baby food, thinking, "Let's just stop for a while," a slightly quieter time began to flow through our days.
As I composed myself and watched my daughter, gradually resuming meal times little by little, I realized something clearly.

This child, at the very least, really loves eating plain white rice.

Around the time she graduated from soft rice and was finally able to eat proper rice, even if she wouldn't touch anything else, she had started to finish every single serving of plain white rice.

However, that was limited only to "plain white rice."
Rice with seasoning was a no-go. Mixed rice, she would take a bite or two, and then stop. Of course, if I served the rice and side dishes separately, she wouldn't touch the side dishes at all.
"Maybe she'll eat it if I mix it in," "Maybe she'll start eating them together if I line up the rice and side dishes."
Every time the rice I served with such hope was left untouched, my heart would shrink a little more.

But the one thing my daughter would eat of her own volition was "plain white rice."
Only for plain white rice would her eyes light up and she would open her mouth. When I offered it to her, she would gobble it up and chew, chew, chew. In a daily life where she would immediately refuse anything she didn't like and spit it out, how much of a mental support that "chew, chew, chew" was.
While I was bewildered by the reality that she would only eat plain white rice, the fact that "there is something she can eat" might have been what saved me.

To an adult's eyes, it was a meal with no balance or color. Even if I prepared side dishes, everything except the rice would be left completely untouched.
However, I think my daughter had her own firm criteria for "this is what I can eat."
It was a taste she could trust, a texture she could trust, and a way of eating she could trust. Perhaps the act of "eating" itself was a burden for her unless all those things were in place.
I can say now that what adults consider a "balanced meal" was probably just too high a hurdle for my daughter at the time.

There were days when I thought, "Just rice again?" but there were certainly days when I could think, "She ate her rice properly again today."
That is why I decided to cherish that "just rice" as well.

Looking back now, eating wasn't just about putting food in her mouth; I think it was a series of her own trial and error, figuring out "what method allows me to eat" and "how far can I feel safe."
Even if it was "only white rice."

At the time, wanting her to eat even a little more, I would end up adding unnecessary words like, "Just one more bite" or "How about this too?"
But perhaps all that was really needed was to smile and say, "You ate it."

Even now, when I see my daughter saving her rice for the end of the meal and eating it as if it were precious, I remember those days when she was a "rice-only eater."
Her expression is so serious, somewhat endearing, and above all, resilient. Without anyone telling her to, she found her own path of "this is what I can do" and stepped onto it.
I believe that was already a wonderful "ability to eat."

*

Next time, I would like to write about how my daughter moved past that period of only eating white rice and began to reach for other foods.