Thursday, October 22, 2009

The food, it is messy

After realizing that I can't actually freeze time and keep Mary Clare like this forever, I have finally accepted that yes, my baby is growing up. Which means she needs to be eating real food, and not just bottles and the vegetable and fruit purees I lovingly make for her. And according to my friends, Mary Clare's teachers, our Parents as Teachers instructor and pretty much anyone you meet on the street, she also needs to be feeding herself with not just her hands, but a spoon. And she should be drinking out of a sippy cup.

Seriously! I honestly wouldn't be surprised if someone gasped and said, "What? You still cut Mary Clare's
Ch√Ęteaubriand for her? What? She's ten months old and she hasn't had
Ch√Ęteaubriand yet? Shame. Now she'll never develop a taste for it."

It's never enough for some people, I tell you. They say it's for your child's development, but really, you and I both know that they just want your baby to be grown up like their baby so we can all moan "what happened to my sweet little bitty baby?" in unison. Yeah, that's right. I'm on to you people.

Anyway, after fighting the inevitable for a few weeks, I finally heeded the call of table food and Mary Clare is now trying new things left and right. Peas, bananas, bread, grapes, graham crackers, noodles, cheese, chicken and goldfish crackers have all found their way into her mouth and hair. And, because Mary Clare now has cut two teeth, we gave her a teething biscuit. That's right, a teething biscuit. If you have to ask why she's only had one, I shall now present to you photographic evidence of the process that takes place when a baby comes into contact with a teething biscuit.

Step One: Get after it. Show that biscuit you mean business.

Step Two: Stop and contemplate your next move. Getting after it is hard work.

Step Three: Pay a visit to your friend the bath tub. Smile because you don't yet know the force with which mom will have to scrub at your face.

Step Four: Gloat. You are clean, smell delightful and won the battle of the hair brush. And you totally owned that teething biscuit.

Sigh. My baby is all growns up.

1 comment:

  1. Well, it's about time Mama. Wait until she comes to our house. Beef!


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