Mostly she clamps her lips shut and turns her head as far away from the food as her neck permits.
I'm in the grips of "She's got to eat three meals a day or she'll dehydrate! Or disintegrate!" and other such fears.
Perhaps now after articulating all this here - and cringing at it - I'll be able to let this run its course with a bit less neurosis.
I've committed to attending another parents' gathering after a fair bit of WhatsApp-badgering from the social work student who's organizing it. I skipped that last meeting after the first one proved disappointing.
Six of the school's most "involved" parents (actually only mothers; we're a bit backward that way in these parts) will be there. At the first of these meetings which I dutifully attended, they all exchanged advice on how to get your child out of the house for the lowest fee.
There was one mother who boasted that she sends her son to some hostel every single, solitary weekend. And that's after having him out of the house from 7:30 am until around 6 pm on weekdays. There must be a hairline's distinction between that and institutionalization but I'm straining to see it.
Anyway, the student's goal is to compile a handbook of parent-to-parent "tips". She adores that word and every sentence that we parents utter is labelled a "tip".
She's urging me to air my grievances at the next meeting which I'm hesitant to do. I'm always afraid that opening my mouth will come back to haunt me.
And now for some good news. C. can't hold anything in her hands, so toys are not on our list of essentials. Nevertheless, it's still uplifting to hear about disabilities progress in the toy market.
Responding to the #toylikeme campaign on Facebook and Twitter waged by parents of children with disabilities, the British toy company Makies has produced a line of dolls with disabilities.