|I don’t care what it is,
as long as it’s meaaaat!
Bolle has now passed that «magic» 6-month limit, and I can start feeding her in public without breast feeding nazis staring me dead for being a horrible mum.
Now, instead, they can stare at me for attempting to kill my daughter by not giving her smooth food, but chunks! That she can take bites off of! And forks! They’re pointy! Well, not actually that pointy. But they are still forks.
I find it odd that here in Norway, where everyone is all very «feed on demand» and boob obsessed, when it comes to weaning, they are suddenly very doubtful of the child’s ability to feed itself.
I mean, we are all shot down if we wean before six months, by which time that baby has been shoving in their mouth anything they could get their hands on for at least two months (at least that was the case for Bolle). So where is the need for spooning?
She was also sweeping food from my plate and sneakily eating it at dinnertime from about 5.5 months.
So, like many of my UK friends, I decided to go puree- and spoonfeeding free, and it seems to be going OK so far.
Bolle fills her diaper with inch-long bits of half-digested tortilla on a semi-daily basis (she has, since teething, consolidated her poos conveniently, although this is the rule rather than the rule, if you know what I mean) and is in ecstasy every time it’s meal time. Her favourites are bread and meat, followed closely by vegetables. She likes smoothie and banana and grapefruit, but is not huge on other fruit.
I openly admit that I see having a child as an opportunity to experiment. Weaning with finger foods makes developmental sense (after all, with some types of therapy you use food as a motivator for kids, this can’t be doing her motor skills any harm) and it allows us to eat a meal together, which she seems to really appreciate.
The cutest moments so far, in no particular order:
- Bolle breaks a fish finger in half and stuffs both bits into her mouth, making it look like she’s smoking two cigars simultaneously
- Bolle has blueberry toast at grandma’s, in the process convincing grandma that it’s pretty safe for her to eat on her own
- Bolle has pasta and tomato sauce. Nuff said.
- Bolle handles cutlery and starts chewing at the wrong end for ages.
- Bolle is on the floor and watches me pour a glass of water for myself from the fridge. She starts making chewing and smacking noises on the floor as she eyes every drop I’m drinking.
The entertainment value in this sort of feeding rather than spoon (I’m sure playing aeroplane is funny too, but it’s just not my cup of tea I think) should not be underestimated.
Time will tell if we go all the way without spoonfeeding her, but so far, brilliantly.
Apart from the killer looks from other mums as I feed her mango and rice cake and peanut butter at the baby song group lunch. Yup, of course it’s messy and of course that makes your kids want what my kid is having. Sorreeee!
Though I have to say there is a part of me filled with sadness that one by one, our days as a breastfeeding dyad are being counted down.
I admit it. Perhaps this baby led weaning thing is just some sort of weird, displaced reaction by which I try to kill my kid with food before she can wean.