happy thanksgiving
So Biff turned six months old, among other things. His half-year birthday fell on a Saturday some weeks back. We were on our way home from a week in Florida where we'd attended Jason and Joyce's wedding, enjoyed some days on the beach, and played mini-golf at Disney.
And what a great, big kid he is! He delights in rolling from his back to his tummy with this adorable maneuver whereupon he pulls his knees up, swings them over, then reaches with his arm until he's pushing up on his belly. At his six-month checkup, his height (29 inches) was off the charts. For a while, he had been eying our food, looking as if he wanted to chow on steak and eggs. So one day, we were on the road -- North Carolina, I think it was -- and eating dinner at the Waffle House. It was late, and the babe was squirming and trying to grab at our food. What the heck, I thought, and gave him a mouthful of grits. He gobbled it down and hasn't looked back since. He's eaten rice cereal and oatmeal and applesauce. Last night he chewed ferociously on a pizza crust that he gripped tightly in his fist as if afraid (rightly) that someone would take it from him. And this afternoon at the Thanksgiving feast, he consumed prodigious amounts of sweet potato. The real stuff that we were eating, boiled and mashed sweet potatoes seasoned with cinnamon and butter and the marshmallow topping carefully scraped off.
I remember my slow, slow start on solid foods with Edward. For a long time, he abhorred big boy food, and we were terrified that he would choke on chunks. Of course, babies have a pretty good reflex when it comes to stuff like that and seem to know which pipe to send it down. But we didn't know it back then and resisted giving the boy Cheerios, even. At the pizzeria last night, Edward stared at me in horror as I handed William a three-inch chunk of crust. Well, the little guy was hungry and looked as if he could handle it. And he did: gnawing the bread with his six teeth until it turned to a mash that dribbled down his chin. Maybe some made it into his stomach...
Nowadays, it's Edward who loves to eat and will rival his father when it comes to slices of pizza. He enjoys just about any type of food, provided it tastes good, and has a soft spot for fruit. The days of baby mash are long gone. So I guess you could say that it all evened out in the end and that delaying the solids didn't really seem to matter.
As for Michelle, my early devotee of table food, she blithely informed me at bedtime that she'd neglected to eat the collard greens I put on her plate this evening because she "didn't like them." She's stubborn enough to ignore me when I tell her to do something she doesn't want to do but still innocent enough that her lies are completely transparent. Her favorite part of this evening's feast was the bread roll. So it goes.
And what a great, big kid he is! He delights in rolling from his back to his tummy with this adorable maneuver whereupon he pulls his knees up, swings them over, then reaches with his arm until he's pushing up on his belly. At his six-month checkup, his height (29 inches) was off the charts. For a while, he had been eying our food, looking as if he wanted to chow on steak and eggs. So one day, we were on the road -- North Carolina, I think it was -- and eating dinner at the Waffle House. It was late, and the babe was squirming and trying to grab at our food. What the heck, I thought, and gave him a mouthful of grits. He gobbled it down and hasn't looked back since. He's eaten rice cereal and oatmeal and applesauce. Last night he chewed ferociously on a pizza crust that he gripped tightly in his fist as if afraid (rightly) that someone would take it from him. And this afternoon at the Thanksgiving feast, he consumed prodigious amounts of sweet potato. The real stuff that we were eating, boiled and mashed sweet potatoes seasoned with cinnamon and butter and the marshmallow topping carefully scraped off.
I remember my slow, slow start on solid foods with Edward. For a long time, he abhorred big boy food, and we were terrified that he would choke on chunks. Of course, babies have a pretty good reflex when it comes to stuff like that and seem to know which pipe to send it down. But we didn't know it back then and resisted giving the boy Cheerios, even. At the pizzeria last night, Edward stared at me in horror as I handed William a three-inch chunk of crust. Well, the little guy was hungry and looked as if he could handle it. And he did: gnawing the bread with his six teeth until it turned to a mash that dribbled down his chin. Maybe some made it into his stomach...
Nowadays, it's Edward who loves to eat and will rival his father when it comes to slices of pizza. He enjoys just about any type of food, provided it tastes good, and has a soft spot for fruit. The days of baby mash are long gone. So I guess you could say that it all evened out in the end and that delaying the solids didn't really seem to matter.
As for Michelle, my early devotee of table food, she blithely informed me at bedtime that she'd neglected to eat the collard greens I put on her plate this evening because she "didn't like them." She's stubborn enough to ignore me when I tell her to do something she doesn't want to do but still innocent enough that her lies are completely transparent. Her favorite part of this evening's feast was the bread roll. So it goes.
posted by jeni at
10:30 PM
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