I thought it was about time I posted another update to our sons never ending adventure into food.
The last time I wrote about it, we had decided to attempt a sort of hybrid between baby led weaning, and spoon feeding if things got too hard. What happened shortly after that is our son decided to make us all feel stupid by managing to consume everything and anything in his path, much like a biblical plague of locusts.
So, we returned to pure baby led weaning – or as I like to call it, the art of putting things on his high chair tray, watching him drop them off the side, then putting them back on the tray until he actually puts it in his mouth, remembers he loves eating, and consumes the lot.
We’ve invested in a couple of metres of plastic sheet (in a lovely green farmhouse pattern, because obviously even the stuff that gets food thrown on it has to keep with my wifes style) that saves our laminate floor from the dreaded orange stain of dropped Bolognese, and we’ve found a few more foods he absolutely loves:
– Bolognese is a constant winner, tossing a homemade tomato sauce with some wide strands of spaghetti and mince is a popular meal for ned, and he hurriedly throws it down his throat as if he’s only got seconds to eat it.
– Melon still gets eaten regularly – his teeth now enable him to bite the thing, instead of sucking it until it’s a horrifying dried husk of a melon slice.
– By far and wide, his favourite fruit is the humble strawberry. Ned will pop smaller ones in his mouth whole, and they’re soft enough for him to break down by chewing/gumming it to a pulp. Sometimes he gets a bit too excited, and, while straining, clenches the hand holding the strawberry while staring at me, as if to prove his already inhuman strength levels are only getting stronger
Nowadays, we give him a beaker of water to go with his meals, and while he still spills the occasional gallon down his chubby pale belly, he’s getting to grips with it quite well.
I guess the key to baby led weaning is to persevere with it – there have been times Ned has eaten nothing – the floor around him looking like someone split a bin bag underneath him, but you have to console yourself in the fact that hey, sometimes people aren’t hungry, and he’s still getting everything he needs from his milk, whatever form that’s coming to him, be it boob or bottle. It’s the thing that, as a parent, I’m most proud of – the fact we can sit down for dinner, and so can our child. Most of the time, obviously.