Bolle is now seven months and a bit, and we’ve been giving her food for almost two months.
I know, I’m a bad mother for giving her crusts and carrots to play with before her magical 26 week limit. She even swallowed something from the very start.
I work two days a week, and today, I came home to find one tub of expressed milk still in the fridge.
She had eaten so much of her leftover salmon lunch that she didn’t call for a second daytime bottle. It’s almost a bit sad.
She’s been having less and less milk for her lunchtime feed, and I think she’s about to drop it even when I’m home with her.
Of course she had plenty of milk from me when I got home and at bedtime, but I could tell also that she’s now having full dinner portions.
And what size portions! Several chunks of roast pumpkin (that’s where they go after HW, into staving babies), a cherry tomato, a chicken wing drumstick, some mince, five peas and some chunks of carrot.
And some cheese, because the Swedish, UK and Canadian people I know have convinced me that Norwegian health authorities might be just a tad bit paranoid about this having us wait till 10 months.
Most of that would have used to go on the floor, but as it was nowhere to be found after dinner (I even checked her neck particularly closely), it must have gone down.
Her afternoon babysitter, whom has never before watched her eat, was very impressed with her sociability at the table, especially since she turned the charm up to 10 as she always does when we have visitors for dinner.