My son is incredibly selective when it comes to food; calling him a picky eater barely scratches the surface. He reacts strongly to various tastes and textures, almost as if they personally offend him. Food he dislikes—often judged after merely touching it to his lips—can be too chewy, salty, or crunchy. He has gagged at the thought of trying fish and even experienced severe heaving when prompted to taste a vegetable.
His food aversions stem not only from a sensitive palate but also from a deep-seated need for control. This need intensified following the loss of his father, which robbed him of both his appetite and a sense of childhood security. While his appetite has returned, his innocence remains elusive.
This combination of sensitivity and a desire for control turns every mealtime into a potential confrontation. However, I ceased trying to argue long ago. Faced with the choice of eating what’s served or going hungry, he often opts for hunger. On particularly stubborn days, he will forgo food to the point where his blood sugar drops, leaving him pale and even nauseous.
When he fell off his growth curve and his iron levels dipped dangerously low, it became essential for him to consume anything at all—even if that meant repeating the same six meals for every meal throughout the day. In pre-pandemic life, I could accommodate his preferences while waiting for a nutritionist appointment. But during the COVID-19 pandemic, with grocery shelves stripped bare and store visits limited, this situation became a significant challenge for my son, who craves his familiar favorites and would rather go hungry than eat something new.
The first grocery trip after schools closed felt like stepping into a dystopian reality. The shelves that once held his go-to foods were empty, forcing me to seek substitutes and take risks with unfamiliar items. Upon returning home, my son watched as I unpacked the groceries, quickly noticing his preferred items were missing. I hesitated to explain the situation, not wanting to frighten him about the drastic changes in our world. He and his sister had only known fully stocked grocery stores, and to be honest, so had I.
I explained that for the next few weeks, things would look different. The snacks and meals he wanted simply weren’t available—not permanently, but for the time being. I couldn’t just run out to find his favorite brand of mac and cheese, as every trip outside carried too much risk. I encouraged him to be flexible, to express frustration when necessary, and to adapt our expectations.
Whether he truly grasped the significance of the empty shelves is uncertain; without experiencing them myself, I might struggle to comprehend their impact. Weeks later, they still seem stark and surreal, but he understands the concept of risk. At just eight years old, he’s witnessed enough about life to recognize the uncertainties we face. He knows I’m the only adult at home and that I need to stay healthy to support our little family.
As quarantine days blurred into weeks, we abandoned traditional food rules—not out of a conscious choice, but due to the pressures of cabin fever and constant togetherness. Family dinners transformed into solitary meals in front of our individual screens, while some days, anxiety levels peaked, leading us to snack on a mishmash of items that barely resembled a meal.
Surprisingly, despite the chaos around us, my picky eater is trying new things more than ever. He’s enjoying carrots paired with guacamole and trying a different marinara sauce with his pasta, finishing every bite of the tri-color variety. He even sampled a new brand of chicken nuggets, with only occasional complaints about the flavor.
On the flip side, he insists on his specific brand of frozen pancakes for breakfast each morning, and I feel fortunate to have found them. I find myself grateful that he’s eating at all, especially when he might have previously chosen to starve. His willingness to be open-minded during this time is a relief amid the mounting concerns of daily life.
I don’t worry too much about whether he’s getting enough vegetables or protein right now; at this moment, I’m just thankful he’s safe and home with me. I appreciate that we can manage to stock up on groceries for two weeks and have access to a variety of pasta options—something countless families cannot take for granted.
I can’t pinpoint why he’s eating better now. Perhaps he has finally reached that age when people told me he would naturally outgrow his pickiness. Or maybe he recognizes that, in this new reality, we all need to adapt. It’s possible the struggle for control has faded because neither of us has any. We are at the mercy of circumstances that are beyond our control.
Perhaps this means that, for the first time in a while, food is no longer a battleground for control. Instead, it has transformed into something else—something resembling family and love.
For additional insights on navigating similar challenges, check out one of our other blog posts. If you’re interested in home insemination, this resource provides valuable information. Additionally, this article is an excellent resource for understanding the intricacies of pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, the COVID-19 pandemic has shifted the dynamics of feeding a selective eater in ways I never anticipated. While my son still prefers certain foods, he is also exploring new options, which brings me a sense of relief amidst the ongoing challenges we face.