Eating Like A Three-Year-Old

Eating Like A Three-Year-Old

 

Dig in, literally.
Dig in, literally.

 

Aww, what a cute little guy feeding himself.

Heavens, food on his hands.  His face.  Down his shirt!

That little dickens dropped mor eon the floor than he has on his plate!

 

Yeah, cute if you are three.  Not so much at 53.

 

 

Maybe I’m stretching the truth a tad…but not much.

Truth is, multiple sclerosis has stolen my ability to walk & run, but now, MS is taking dibs on my feeding skills!

Not that I was ever prim & proper in the dining room.  Today, my table etiquette would put Emily Post into convulsions.

 

No surgeon's hands here!
No surgeon’s hands here!

I blame my hands mostly.

They just don’t work like they use to.

I fiddle-fart with a knife & fork to cut meat with the ferocity of a Grizzly.  Which explains my preference between a sandwich and a steak?  I’ll take a steak every time.  

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy steak–I just struggle to cut it.  And I’m too embarrassed to ask for help.  In fact, if I can’t cut something with the edge of a fork–I don’t want it.  It’s just too difficult.

 

 

The time of day has a lot to do with my problem.

Four p.m. to seven p.m. is the weakest part of my day.  

And my hands show it.

 

Dainty I'm not.
Dainty I’m not.

 

 

A recent switch to using a fat-handled steak knife has helped.

But as you can see in the picture—there’s not much difference between me cutting a piece of chicken…and a WWE wrestler putting an opponent in a headlock!

 

 

 

Like a 12-round middle-weight bout.
Like a 12-round middle-weight bout.

 

Sometimes I feel like I am eating while wearing boxing gloves!

Can’t be any worse, I figure.

 

One “trick-of-the-trade” I use is to always request sitting at the kiddle table at functions.

There, I don’t look quite as messy…and I can blame my nephew for the sloppy place setting.

 

 

Eating like a three-year-old is all part of the game when one has MS.  How to deal with the frustrating difficulties is a matter of common sense & cooler heads.

Do you face the same problem?  How do you cope?

For now, I’ll enjoy my “finger-foods”—careful to stop at the finger.

Happy dining.

sock

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5 Replies to “Eating Like A Three-Year-Old”

  1. Have you ever noticed that the healthier the food, the more you get on you? Don’t even get me started on tomatoes and salad dressing. It’s enough to make me want to live off of chips!

  2. Yes MS stole my right many many years ago. I feel like I wear gloves also but never pictured them to be boxing gloves lol. I chose to eat simpler food, steak is too difficult so when I go to steak place I order the steak tips. I eat a lot of peanut butter and crackers. I used to drink milkshakes but cannot handle the sugar anymore.

  3. Been there done that. My MS has progressed to the point I’m hesitant to eat in a restaurant. The last few social events I had to attend, I had no choice but to be covered with napkins, and my plus one would have to feed me. I had the choice of not eating, or just figure people already see me in a wheelchair, so they probably think I can’t use my hands either. When at home, I find it easier to eat ” cave man” style then to use utensils. I cannot use a knife, so I too cut my food with the edge of a fork or spoon. The only real way to cope, is to try not to worry about what others think. I used to be embarrassed. It was hard, but I am now at peace with the fact that I really do need help. #nosoup4me

  4. It’s sad we have to deal with this years before our peers. I’m letting my gray grow out so I look more the part of someone 20 years older. I wasn’t thinking one day and ordered ribs at a bbq place and they came unseparated so I ate my sides and took the ribs to go…left them in the car till the next day when I remembered. Most expensive Cole slaw I’ve ever had! Now I think before I order but rarely go out, it’s just easier to.eat at home or go drive thru and eat in the car at the park with enough napkins to cover the space between my mouth and the food container and no one to witness my proper manners turned barbarian Grateful husband doesn’t mind our cozy private dates.

    I know there are utensils with easy grip handles. I might have even bought some once in preparation for when I needed them, but have no idea where they might be because my brain works no better than the rest of me.

Making it official.