Weird Baby Eating Habits

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the baby’s weird eating habits. Just when I think I’m getting my head around it, he throws me a curve ball.

There are the ‘Heck yes! Gimme gimme gimme’ foods:

These are the fall backs, the ones he will almost never refuse or waste chucking on the floor or sharing with the dog. Examples are cheese, Cheerios, raisins, plain yoghurt, tofu, rice crackers, humus and baba ganoush (I never thought a baby would go nuts for roasted aubergine/eggplant mixed with roasted garlic but ours is apparently special). With the exception of raisins there is a definite color trend among these foods.

Then there are the ‘No, nope, nut and never’ foods:

These may accidentally be scooped into the Baby’s mouth but will be immediately expelled with velocity, or stored but not swallowed in a rodent-like fashion. These include broccoli, meat (of all varieties except the processed kind), peppers, lettuce, spinach, kale, egg and rice…so far. Again a colour pattern.

Then there are the ‘Keep you on your toes’ foods.

These will be gobbled up one day, disappearing faster than my Friday night cocktail but screamed at and launched the next. Examples might be mango, carrots, purees of any variety, spag bol, oatmeal, chilli, pesto, banana, watermelon and apple…again, so far. This category is the one that drives me bonkers. It get my hopes up, thinking he’s finally bringing a new food into the first group only to have him laugh in my face, chuck it at the dog and start looking for his egg tofu. *SIGH*

 

Add to this the Baby loves to steal food from his mummies’ plates, even if it’s sore-butt-spicy but refuses the same food offered on his highchair. He only eats food which is room temperature or below. He refuses to drink water from a sippy cup and will only drink it from a normal cup after swirling his food covered fingers in it. He will only eat food which has been marinating in his bib pocket for a couple of hours or that has been dropped on the floor a few times.

I miss the days when we only worried about bottles.

 

The Aquisition of Language: Learning to Understand but Ignore One’s Parents

The Baby is starting to understand some of things which are said to him. Understand, I’d like to stress, not heed. Although I’ve heard that doesn’t happen until after the teenage years. Or beyond.

Anyway, I digress. He knows who the Dog is and will look for her when asked. He will race across the room at the speed of light if you utter the word ‘Cheerios’. He will stop, smile and then go in for another chomp if you say ‘no biting’.

‘Sit down’, ‘hold on tight’ and ‘careful’ are also understood in both Thai and English. The Mummy has kicked it up a notch with speaking Thai in the house and it looks like Thai might be the first language the Baby learns. Even I can’t manage not to learn a little as she calls to him to ‘use two hands’, incessantly, in an increasing pitch.

He also will hand things over…most of the time. Which is great and has made giving him a loaded spoon much more appealing. It was not fun before when he’d take a bite and immediately hurl it on the floor, spraying its soggy contents everywhere.

Watching him learn is one of the highlights for parenting for me. I get truly excited when I see him figure out something new. Although often my life immediately becomes more difficult.

With these new developments I can foresee fun times in my lazy future…

‘Baby, before you go to bed can you grab me another cold one from the fridge, please?’

Can’t wait!

Does your kid understand and listen to you?

Perception vs Reality: Giving the Baby a Bottle

Among my many romantic notions about parenting was the sweet joy of feeding the baby his bottle. I wont even mind getting up at night (HA!), thought I, as it will be so sweet and cuddly. And it was…for a time.

Now it’s a mostly stressful activity, trying to wrestle a very active baby into lying back and being still, both of which he hates. Then trying to judge whether he is actually not hungry or is just waiting for the fifth (sixth, seventh…) offering before he accepts. Does he want to hold the bottle? Did he push it away on purpose? Is he full or just distracted? Is the formula bad? Did I forget to sterilize? Is it too close to his last bottle? Did he eat too much at dinner to want it?

And finally, when he’s settled down and you’re getting that soul repairing eye-contact with those gorgeous big browns, thinking maybe this parenting lark isn’t so bad after all… this happens:

Hey, while your in there grab that big booger for me, will ya? Please?

 

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Baby Led Weaning…maybe?

So you might remember our earlier forays into Baby Led Weaning…which you can read about here.

In the last week or so I’ve had a little more success. We’ve had fewer and fewer Vesuvius upchuck moments and we got through today with just a little phlegm-y spit out. Huzzah!

So how did we do it, I hear you clamoring? Three Two words: gateway drug. Or to put it another way- cake.

OK, OK, stay with me here…no, don’t call child services.

Before the Baby reacted to anything that wasn’t newborn-poop-smooth with a fast and deliberate vomit fountain. I simply had to teach him that the best foods come in lumpy form. And what is the best food? Cake, of course.

Before you start burning my pictures on the ‘Bad Mothering- Straight to Hell’ pyre, I would like to add that this was not your average cake. This was a homemade (by the Mummy, not me, don’t be ridiculous), fresh, organic mango cake. Made with mangoes picked from our tree that morning. Wow, maybe I am a Pintresting-type mum. OK, nope, maybe the Mummy is.

Anyway, so when the Baby saw me shoveling large slices of said cake into my…cake hole, he became very interested. And- funnily enough, knew better than to purge the cake from his system.

A few tiny morsels of cake and he was hooked. He’s now stealing itty, bitty bites of bread, apple, ground meat, mushroom, cheese and sweet potato. I call that a success, friends!

But now mealtimes look like this:

*Disclaimer: I’m not advising that you administer cake, crack or coke (soda or otherwise) to your child. Don’t try this and then sue me. I had IVF, I have no money- trust me.  I am not a doctor, health adviser or dietitian. Check out the BLW website for much better advice if you are having difficulties.

 

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A Morning in the Life of a Baby’s Mum

Wake up early. Like, sun hasn’t risen, dear-god-it-can’t-possibly-be-tomorrow-yet early.

Stagger out of bed and into the wailing baby’s room. Be greeted with a smile and a triumphant ‘Eh?!’ which melts your heart a little. Stub your toe on the dresser on your way across the room. Swallow down some curses because you will.not.swear.in.front.of.the.baby.today.

Extricate the little person from the straight jacket sleeping bag and stagger a little as your nose is bombarded with the smell of stale urine and your eyes water.

Release the whining dog from her crate. Try not to fall in her attempts to kill you as she charges down the stairs, briefly tangling herself in your legs.

Let the dog out. Lie the baby on the changing mat. Start to unbutton the gazillion clips on his onesie pjs. Try to stop the baby rolling over by giving him something inappropriate to hold. Remember that the dog is not allowed to be unsupervised in the garden as she eats ‘things’ the neighbor’s cat has kindly left EVERYWHERE.

Pick up the baby. Shout at the dog through the screen as no fewer than 20 mosquitoes batter themselves against the door in a desperate attempt to get in and taste you. Shout again at the dog. Threaten the dog. Plead with the dog. Offer the dog apple and see her hastily reappear.

Return to changing the baby. Double the time it takes by fighting hard with his squirming, rolling body. Eventually give up and change him lying on his belly. Take one look at the onesie buttons and think ‘To hell with that.’

Deposit the baby in the jumper activity center. Take the baby out when he starts complaining 3 and a half minutes later. Attempt to brush his newly sprouting teeth with a finger brush without loosing any fingers.

Leave him on his play mat while you measure and mix the formula. Shout at the dog for licking his feet. Shout at the dog for licking his face. Shout at the baby for licking the dog. Mutter some curses under your breath.

Feed him formula while straining your neck trying to avoid his grabbing fingers finding purchase on your hair or face. Try not to sigh when he starts kicking the bottle or chewing on the teat instead of eating.

Build a tower out of toys for him to destroy then use the distraction to make a cup of coffee. Return to the play mat. Repeatedly say ‘No, hot!’ as he climbs on you and tries to scald himself with the coffee. Put the mug somewhere high. Promptly forget about it.

Lie on the floor and try not to wince as he climbs all over you. Find your happy place as he pinches your arms and steps on your nipples. Develop lightning fast reflexes to catch him a quarter inch before his head slams into the ground after he leaps off you.

Repeatedly shoo the dog away. Repeatedly retrieve the baby from whatever dangerous item has caught his eye. Repeatedly comfort him when he wails because the thing he insists on chewing keeps hurting his teeth.

Glance at the clock. Realize it’s only 7.30am and you’ve got a whole day of this ahead of you. Curse.

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