Rough Hands, Gentle Love

(Age: One) Feeding Time

"Tomo..." You sigh.
He had turned his face away for the third time, refusing to eat the small mouthful of baby food on the spoon, his little cheeks puffed out defiantly.
"It's nice! Look." You insist, trying the mouthful yourself.
You try not to wince at the texture, making a show of making it look tasty, but Tomo does not look any more impressed, his little pink eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Mm. Yummy!" You say with false enthusiasm, getting another spoonful from the jar and saying 'ah'.
He turns his face again though, the spoon meeting his cheek instead of his mouth.
You flop back in your seat, looking at him and trying to keep your expression neutral.

Tomo had never been easy. The pregnancy wasn't easy, the birth wasn't easy, the first few months weren't easy, and he wasn't getting any easier now he was walking, starting to talk and beginning to form his own personality, either.
The least he, and you, could do was get him to eat.
"C'mon. Eat something for mommy." You try to bargain with him, leaning forward and stroking his soft cheek with your index finger. "Want a yoghurt instead?"
Tomo quite literally turns his nose up at that, too.

"What about some egg? You like egg." You try, trying to make the word sound enticing. "Egg and dippies?"
Tomo frowns, his little black eyebrows pulling together in an expression you can't mistake for anything else than disdain. And with the little beauty spot under his lip, and the shape of his dads eyes, he looks just like a tiny, pissed-off Tomura.
"Please?" You try, the feelings of complete inadequacy you'd had in the early days of motherhood returning like they'd never left in the first place.
Tomo screws his face up and strains to try to get out of the high chair, making his opinion on dinnertime known.

"You aren't getting out until you eat something, Tomo." You say, like he's fully capable of understanding everything you say to him. "What about a 'nana?"
He regards you a little dubiously at that and you raise an eyebrow.
"Nana?" You repeat.
The door opening distracts him again though, and he immediately starts straining to try to get out of his seat again, bouncing and pointing at Tomura as he walks through the door. Apparently just in time to see you fail as a mother again.
"Hello, Tomo." Tomura greets, kissing his fuzzy head before placing his hand on the back of your head. "Kiss."

You give him a chaste kiss, which has Tomo slapping the highchair in an attempt to get his fathers attention back.
"How're the others?" You ask, spooning another mouthful of food out.
"As good as they can be." Tomura shrugs, taking a seat on the other side of Tomo and loosening his tie.
Tomo immediately reaches for him, all cute noises and smiles for his dad.
Tomura smirks a little bit back, letting Tomo grip one of his fingers tightly and shake his hand up and down in excitement.

You try to feed him again while he's distracted, but he screws his face up once more and begins to cry.
You give up this time, dropping the spoon to the table with a loud clatter and slumping in your seat, wiping your face in exasperation.
Tomura's eyes narrow slightly, but Tomo continues to act cute, like you're not even there.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"He hasn't eaten all day." You explain, feeling like you could cry. "I managed to trick him into a smoothie and that's it."
"Have you tried keeping calm with him?" He asks, and you deadpan at him.

Instead of asking any more questions, Tomura pries Tomo's fingers off of his index finger and leans forward to get the spoon you'd dropped and the little tub of baby food.
You watch in disbelief as Tomura successfully manages to get Tomo to eat a mouthful of the pea and sweet potato food on his first try.
"You little..." You begin to say in disbelief, and then your face crumples, and you have to quickly leave the room before Tomura tells you not to cry in front of him.
You close your bedroom door, sitting on the edge of your bed and burying your face in your hands.

You try so hard to ignore the thoughts that the doctor insisted was just postpartum depression, but still seemed to be living on inside your head a year later, but it's difficult.
Everyone else online always seemed to have parenting down to a T, even when you'd gone out of your way to find other parents that struggled to feel bonded with their child, or that they were doing anything right.
When the door opens, you're not expecting Tomura to come in holding Tomo.
Tomo immediately reaches for you, his own pink eyes glistening with unshed tears.

You watch a little suspiciously as Tomura approaches you, Tomos hands opening and closing more insistently the closer he gets to you.
You hold out your arms to take him, and immediately feel the weight of Tomo in your arms, ignoring the food on his face being smeared into your top as he buries his face into your shoulder, small but strong arms wrapping around you.
"There. Now stop being a brat." Tomura says as he crouches in front of you, his hands resting on the sides of your knees.
Concerned red eyes look up at you as his thumbs coast over your knees gently.

"It feels like he hates me." You say quietly, and Tomura shakes his head.
"The second you left the room he started fussing." He tells you evenly. "I managed to get him to eat half the jar before bringing him in, though."
Tomo loosens his hold on you, moving to hold your face in his tiny hands, big pink eyes looking at you innocently.
"Nana?"
Tomura looks a little confused, but you force a soft smile, leaning your face on one of his small hands.
"Now you want a 'nana?" You ask, forcing yourself to sound playful.

Tomo isn't stupid though, he still looks a little concerned as he butts his head against your lips clumsily.
You wince, but accept it, allowing Tomura to help you up while you hold Tomo, his hand on the small of your back as you walk back to the open plan kitchen and dining room, placing Tomo back into his high chair.
"You better eat this if I mash it up for you." You threaten teasingly, tapping his little nose and making him giggle.
Tomura watches silently, waiting for you to retrieve a banana from the fridge and begin cutting it up before pressing against your back, his lips grazing your neck as you bust yourself with making a snack for Tomo.

Tomo immediately starts fussing, slamming his hands on the table of the highchair and babbling loudly.
Tomura doesn't pay attention to it like you do though, his hands squeezing your sides.
"Cut it out, Tomu." You say gently.
"Can't help it." He sighs. "I want another one."
"Too bad. Maybe if you carry it this time." You retort, mashing up the slices of fruit in the bowl so it's a little easier for Tomo to eat.
Tomura mutters something about using All For One to find a quirk that would allow him to do that, but you ignore it, sliding away from his hands with trained expertise.

Tomo settles down the minute the two of you separate.
"Mama." He babbles, reaching for the bowl in your hands.
You settle down in the seat you were in before, dipping the spoon in the bowl and then reaching for Tomo.
He opens his mouth obediently this time, nice and wide. The second his mouth closes around the mashed up fruit his eyes sparkle and he bounces in his seat, trying to snatch the spoon from you.
"You really are such a brat, Tomo." You sigh in relief. "Just like your dad. You're lucky I love you both."