In having a new child placed with us recently I’m reminded of the eating disorders that my own children struggled with for years after coming to live with us. The most common at our house has been, not recognizing when they are full. I’ve learned over the years to say, “No, you’re full.” Instead of “You must be full.” How do I know that the child is full? I just figure that when a 40 pound child has put away enough food to feed my teenage son, she must be full!

I guess this technique works since my now adult and teenage children don’t struggle with obesity, bulimia or anorexia. Typically I will give them a plate with age appropriate proportions of food on it. When they are finished with that, I’ll let them have seconds if they ask. If they ask for thirds, I’ll repeat to them that they are full, but we will be having our next meal in three hours or treat in two hours depending on the time of day. If they are still adamant about how hungry they are, I’ll tell them that they may have an apple or some carrots.

Don’t think that this method is an easy fix; it took years of repeating this until they finally seemed to recognize that they were full on their own. We conspicuously avoided restaurants that served buffet style, or all you can eat. People at church begged us each year to come to pot lucks and the Christmas cookie open houses; we only made the mistake once. Our darling daughter vomited all night long after having free access to all the cookies and hot chocolate she wanted.

One of my most embarrassing moments came as a result of a child’s eating disorder. I believe she was five or six years old and had been living in our family for over a year at the time. We were at a floor hockey game, for some of my children and I was sitting in the bleachers watching the game. It’s a relatively small gym with only one set of bleachers about 30 feet long. Then there is about 10 feet from the end of the bleachers to the wall where the concession stand is and the restrooms. One of the boys came over to the bottom of the bleachers, looked up, and yelled, “MOM, BASAY JUST ATE SOMEONES FOOD OUT OF THE GARBAGE CAN!” Well you can imagine, given the size of the gym that everyone heard him and all heads turned and looked my way to see what my reaction would be. Beet red, I scurried down the bleachers and took her into the restroom to wash her up and try to explain that we didn’t need to eat out of garbage cans; we could buy our food at the concession stand.






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