It seems like feeding a baby should be easy. You just give them a little bit of what you are eating. Yeah right. How much do you give them? What do you give them? When do you give it to them? Pureed fruit? Pureed veggies? Baby cereal? Puffs? Finger food? How many times a day? How many bottles should they still have? When do you do a bottle vs. real food? Do they need water? Heck if I know, to all of the above questions. At this point, we have a pretty set schedule of bottle, breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, bottle, but it doesn’t take much to throw me off track. Typically for dinner he gets a jar of baby food, some delicious pureed version of beef and veggies, or something of that nature. Yum. Tonight I had the great idea to just throw some of what we were having into my food processor. I had made a chicken dish that I really like, figured he would too…it has chicken, green and red peppers, onions, a little garlic and cheddar cheese, wrapped up in crescent roll dough. The consistency looked pretty good after I processed it, and I felt proud of myself for going out of the box of our regular routine.
Thaddeus, however, quickly burst my bubble. This is not the face of someone enjoying his dinner. It is the face of a child who thinks his mom is feeding him garbage.
A few more bites, and he becomes even more skeptical
When he started trying to hand me back the food I was feeding him, pulled off his bib and threw it on the floor, I took the hint
Bubble burst. At this point, I give up, my heart a little broken, I rip him up some bread chunks, and he is happy as a clam
Another parenting success!
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