Really...they get older and I'm responsible for them?

One of my most memorable new mommy group moments was when one of the new mommy's expressed her amazement that yes, her baby will keep getting older and yes, she will be taking care of him for a long, long time. Her comment floored me because, guess what? That thought never crossed my mind either. Having a baby at 36 was more of an experiment...I wanted to know what it was like to give birth, and to love a child. Well, a baby. At least that was as far as I got into thinking about it. There was so much to worry about with just taking care of a baby for the first time; how to feed, bathe, clothe, and properly hold one, for instance. Honestly, I never thought past the first six months.
But as life would have it, thankfully, my children have continued to grow and thrive. Well, sort of thrive. Today I had the pleasure of taking them to their joint three year and 18 month check up. Seems my children are a little on the small side. My three year old in particular. The way the pediatrician--a man my kids call "Dr. Penguin" because his last name sounds like penguin and not because he looks like one--put it was "About 98 percent of kids his age are bigger than him."
"Hmm," I said. "Well, he doesn't look that small."
"He's all muscle," Dr. Penguin said, "No fat."
For a 35 year old woman that's a good thing, I suppose. But for a 3 year old boy? What if it continues? Would he be picked on...an easy target?Was it my fault because I'm not much of a chef? Because i don't make us all sit down at the same time and eat dinner together? Because I sometimes go for days and forget to offer him something new? Or because I was the one who got him to try peanut butter, a milestone we were both very happy about, until he broke out in hives and had to be taken in an amublance (just a precaution) to the ER?
In the pediatrician's office, we went over what E eats, his basic menu consisting of: yogurt, blueberries, bananas, mac and cheese, cheese, the occassional cottage cheese, crackers, cookies, chocolate, and "apple doo doo."
E was the one who slipped that one out.
"What's apple doo doo?" Dr. Penguin asked.
"It's apple sweet potato," I explained. "Baby food."
"Wow, he's 3 and he's still eating baby food...huh."
Ok, now I felt stupid.
"Well, at least it's fruit and vegetable," I said. "And the doo doo just came about because he couldn't pronounce sweet potato."
Dr. Penguin smiled.
"Does he eat any meat?"
"Nope. Won't try any." I shrugged.
At that moment, Ethan asked for a snack. "I'm huuuuuuungry mommy," he said, trying to break into my backpack.
I pulled out a large sandwich bag with two rice cakes inside. Both of my boys started panting like dogs waiting for a table scrap.
"Who wants a rice cake??" I asked, only then realizing what this must look like to Dr. Penguin who immediatley commented:
"A nice, no calorie treat, huh? Rice cakes?
"Oh, yeah...well, these are actually mine," I said. "They just like them so I share."
There was a short, uncomfotable pause and then Dr. Penguin asked, "How about you? Have you lost weight? You look thinner...your face."
Well that's a weird thing for your kid's pediatrician to ask you, I thought.
"Sure, I've lost weight since I had my kids," I joked.
What was he getting at? was he trying to guage if I have an eating disorder and as a result, not feeding my children well either?
"I'm on a gluten sensitive diet," I said, as though that explained everything.
Fortunately, we moved on after that.
Tonight at dinner time, however, I came on strong trying to get E to try something new. In exchange for one bite of something new (my suggestions included such traditional kids favorite as grilled cheese or pizza), I would give him M&Ms as well as a surprise present, a toy (I had a stash of small toys in my car in preparation for potty training bribing). A lot of parenting, I'm slowly learning, revolves around bribery.
But E wouldn't have any of it. "Not even one little bite to see if you like it?" I begged. He shook his head defiantly.
I threw my hands up in frustration, as though the weight of the world, his world, was on my shoulders. How will I get him to use the potty? To give up his pacy? To eat something new? It was all too much. Too much reponsibilty for one day.
I made him his favorite Annie's Mac and Cheese with a little apple doo doo and called it a day. Maybe tomorrow I'll try again.