Stories from the front lines of an unplanned pregnancy.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

He's definitely my son...

So, the Infant Fatale I.R.A. started solid foods today. Make that "solid" foods, as there's nothing remotely solid about the gluey gruel better known as Gerber Rice Cereal. I mean, as if it wasn't hateful enough that we've all been sitting around stuffing our faces with veal meatballs and mahi mahi steaks while the Spawn gazed longingly up from my boob for the past few weeks, but when the time finally comes to expand his breast milk-centric diet... we give him that shit?! Damn.
Actually, you would've thought it was pureed caviar on a mother of pearl spoon the way he inhaled that mess. And when I was too slow with it, he took matters into his own pudgy little hands. Literally. Spoon be damned, he was gonna get his fix even if that meant tugging it to his mouth and scraping off every delicious morsel.

Needless to say, he was totally into it. Sure his doctor was all, "We now recommend waiting until six months to start infants on solid foods," and whatever. But, A. the little binge eater's been giving the side eye to every loaded fork that enters his line of sight and bypasses his mouth for a while now, and B. I've been giving the side eye to his pediatrician ever since he suggested getting Ian on the formula when he was having some issues with the whole nursing thing-- the DAY after he was born. So, yeah, he can pretty much kiss my breastfeeding and rice cereal pushing ass. And in all honestly, I was starting to worry about being gummed to death in my sleep if I pulled one more handful of (insert food item that has no business being in a four month old's mouth) out of Ian's grasp. Um, he growled at his great grandmother today when she had the audacity to drink a glass of tea in front of him without offering any. Yeah, I know, the nerve. Anyway, It was shortly after that last display of food related aggression that I decided to try a little change of pace. All the books say that one of the biggest signs that your precious hellspawn is ready to try the whole solids thing is an noticeable curiosity in what you're eating. "Noticeable curiosity", "borderline desperate desire to cram into mouth"... potato, po-tah-to.

But before you know it, I'm going to be picking green flecks out of his pasta in restaurants and slapping together pb&j's like it's my job. So for now I'm gonna enjoy these lovely, simple times of breast milk and the occasional spoonful of vaguely food like sustenance before they're gone, because once they're gone, God knows I'm going to miss them.

...And besides, solid food poop is such a bitch to clean up.

With love and gruel,
a.

1 comment:

mama's got moxie said...

oh, that's all so hilarious and brought back a wave of memories of my son when he was a baby (he'll be 3 next week!!).

your son is such a cutie!!