I made the dough, prepared the filling, placed it in the center of each round, wrapped and twisted the tops just so and began the steaming process. Feeling quite pleased with myself I brought the savory buns to the table. Then things began to go downhill.
Noah took a bite. He then wanted to give the bun back to me to hold in my hand. He does this sometimes and I am working with him to place his food back in his bowl. So, I asked him to place it in his bowl. We did this exchange a couple of times and then I lost him. He screamed and cried and threw the bun against the wall. Splat! Filling and dough spread across the wall. And then he retreated into a place where I could not reach him emotionally. Crying, almost in a state of panic, he continued to stuff a new steamed bun into his mouth. I had to remove some of it for fear of him choking. This provoked an even bigger screaming and crying jag and a painful bite to my index finger!
I don't know if the taste and smell of the steamed buns triggered unpleasant memories of China or if he was just frustrated with our prior exchange. We all have strong emotional reactions to certain smells or tastes. I just can't help but wonder if my carefully prepared steamed buns reminded Noah of something that was painful.
This story does have a happy ending. I asked Noah if he wanted me to hold him. When he didn't protest, I gathered him into my arms. We sat at the table and he began to calm down. He slowed his eating and nestled against me. After he had had his fill, we went upstairs for a bath. He listened to Claire read a bedtime story and "asked" her to brush his hair. The two said good night and I placed him in his bed. How I wish I knew more about his first two years! But, as it has been from the beginning, this continues to be a journey of faith.
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