Help Make Little One Chubby!

Between the two of us, Little One and I might as well move in and live at the hospital.
We were there three days and over 12 hours this week.  So fun. 
Monday we met with Her fourth team of pediatric specialists, who in turn referred Her to a fifth.  I know. She is cute.  Everyone wants to keep Her! But when we add in Her regular pediatrician, that's SIX departments following Little One, which is a LOT of follow-up appointments. Throw in monthly (soon to become bimonthly) check ups for the Little Miss and I, we are looking at a many hours in waiting rooms. 
The new issue is Little One's, well, littleness.  Apparently She hasn't gained any weight since September. Could be She's just small, and has been sick a lot, and will catch up as we go.  No problem.  But it could be a sign that something isn't right.
So just in case, the doctors all say, they need us to "prove" that Little One can gain weight. If She can, then whether She actually does or not- for now- doesn't really matter too much.  But can She? We have been given a month to see.
A month to fatten Her up! The month is up in next week, and if that time goes by and She still hasn't upped the ounces, the Specialists will want to start looking at why. Which would involve even more time at the hospital, and probably some tests that we really, really, really want to avoid. Yuck.
Unfortunately, at Her appointment Monday, the scale let me down by informing us (the creep) that She hasn't gained anything yet.  But we're only half-way there, and we came home with a special high-calorie drink that might help us out some.
In the meantime? Little One has been surprised to find and array of foods available to Her that we previously preferred to skip, or at least limit.  Like desserts and processed foods. I fed the child packaged onion rings, for heaven's sake.  She gets to pour gravy on everything.  I have been making Her bacon and using the drippings to fry Her veggies in.  Syrup in Her oatmeal, Hersheys in Her milk.  Meat, meat, meat. 
This task is a bit difficult, because for one thing it goes horribly, terribly against the grain of my parenting instincts.  My child has never had a french fry or a chicken nugget.  And I am giving Her bacon fat. We're used to apple slices and grapes for snack, not animal cookies and beef jerky.  I am working very hard at giving Her whatever it takes to avoid those nasty tests, but I wince EVERY single time I do it.  At a typical meal, Little One will eat the broccoli first. I don't want to ruin that yet!
And it's also hard because a lot of the foods that are typically suggested to fatten kids up are dairy products or processed/fast food items that She's allergic to. 
"Just put butter in everything She eats" one Specialist advised.  Uh huh.  Hmm.  Yes, well.  That's a neat idea, but, see, it would probably kill Her, so it might not be the best choice, in the end.  "Try this high-calorie nutrition drink" advised another. It only has a tiny bit of milk protein in it.  Yes. But a much much tinier amount was in that yogurt we gave Her, and She was sick for a month.
The tough thing about so many specialists is the increasingly complex nature of the advice we are given, and at the center of it I have to try to make sure that no one forgets that She has issues other than just what they are seeing Her for.  I've learned I have to be very careful to second-guess a lot of nutrition advice, because the doctor forgets or doesn't realize that Her allergies are so serious.  She's not going to gain weight on something if it makes Her stop breathing.  Breathing tends to be sort of at the top of the priority list, I think.
So we are fishing around for suggestions (we got the pour-gravy-on-everything idea from a skinny friend) and scouring Whole Foods for substitutes, and doing the best we can.  It's a strange thing to be urging my child to have some more deep-fried anything, but I guess that's the thing about parenting.
No matter what you say you absolutely Will or Will Not do as a parent, you really never know.
The little buggers are full of surprises, and they couldn't possibly care less what your high ideals are.
And so, Dora the Explorer has become a regular visitor in the house, my two-year-old wears pretend make-up, and I pour Hershey syrup into a travel cup.  WOW.


This whole experience only reinforces my absolute, number one rule regarding other parents.  Which is: (except in super extreme cases where authorities should actually be involved) whatever your first impression, gut reaction, or theoretical objection is- Never Judge.
The kid bopping everyone on the playground over the head may have autism.
The mom ignoring her child's sand-throwing may be two steps from having one of them admitted to the psych ward.
The kid watching a portable DVD at the restaurant might be getting a once-a-year reward for some great achievement.
The one outside in winter without a jacket might not be able to afford one.
The mom shoving rolos into Her toddlers mouth in the checkout line might be in the middle of a diabetic emergency, and the one feeding Her kid bacon and ice cream for breakfast might be told by 6 teams of doctors to do it.
Never judge.
Sometimes parents do things the total opposite of what you think is right, because they plain have a different idea of what is right.  And there's plenty of room for differences in opinion in this most subjective of endeavors.  But sometimes they might agree with you 100%, and there's just some outside influence causing them to hang up their pious, perfect-parent hat for awhile and just get through whatever it is.
A while ago, Little One and I were walking and saw a 3 or 4 year old having a truly inspired, kicking-screaming tantrum on the sidewalk next to the open door of a minivan.  The mother eyed us anxiously and apologetically as we approached.  Her face got redder and redder.  As we were about to pass by, the fit reached a new level of crazy and the mom- who had been trying every threat, admonition, and plea she could think of- finally pulled something out of Her purse and said "fine! here! here they are! you can have them just GET IN THE CAR!" 
She looked up, sort of surprised to see me right there next to her, witnessing her fold.  "s-sometimes", she stammered, shamed, almost in a whisper, "I just...I just really need him to get in the car..."
She looked up at me sideways, expecting a condescending smile, sniff, or harsh rebuttal.
I put my hand on her arm and said genuinely, because I meant it, "Any of us who haven't been there already, will soon. We're all making it up as we go."  
 
Anyways, I know I am.  In the meantime, I'm enlisting you all in my warped endeavor to add some dimples to those Little One thighs. 
Any ideas on how to squeeze some more calories in there? 
(Keep in mind they can't have nuts, dairy, eggs, citrus, or strawberry.) 
Come on Peanuts, help us get chubby!