The news this week, of course, is that we’ve started Sam on solid foods. And by “started Sam” I mean “dumped down the front of Sam’s face” and by “solid” I mean “soupy mash”. But let’s back up for a second.
Last weekend we trekked to Babies R Us and bought Sam her high chair. All this week we put her up in it at mealtime, just so she could get used to it. We strapped her in and gave her a variety of dishes, spoons, cups, and other utensils that she could alternately cram in her mouth and scoffingly throw to the ground. While she still needs to grow into it a bit, Sam was instantly happy as a pig in slop when we put her in the chair. If we could have read her mind as we put her in it for the first time, here’s what I think we’d have seen:
What? What’s this? Some kind of sitting deviOHMYGOD! THIS IS AWESOME! It’s all cushy and there’s things I can grab and put in my mrf ag ag ag this tastes good OH MY GOD WHAT’S THIS THING I think I can put it in my mouth too THIS IS SO COOL I’m GOING TO SPIT UP it could’t get any better unless OH YES THEY’RE GIVING ME MORE THINGS and now I can cram this in my mouth too but this first thing no longer holds my interest since I’ve had it since three seconds ago so I’ll just throw it to the side THIS IS FUN now this thing is boring so I’ll just throw it aside too and gnaw on the side of the chair thingie I’m so happy I’m just GOING TO SCREAM AND THROW THINGS!
We went through this for a week until Saturday morning when we decided it was time to actually feed her in the dang thing. So we prepared her a gourmet meal of rice cereal and took the plunge. Now, rice cereal is the soupiest, most liquidy food I’ve ever seen. It’s barely a solid. In fact, if it were any less of a solid, it’d be vapor. The preparation instructions for rice cereal are pretty simple, too:
- Mix one scoop rice cereal with four ounces breast milk, water, or juice.
- Dump mixture over baby’s head
Apparently we didn’t read the instructions all the way through, though, and were foolish enough to try to actually spoon it into Sam’s mouth. This approach just took a lot longer and got us the same results. Sam’s happy funtime antics included grabbing at the spoon, closing her mouth at the last second, slapping at the incoming spoon, turning her head, and getting a big mouthful just to spit it back out all over herself. When we were done I think one spoon full had actually made it into her tummy and the other thirty-nine were on the high chair, the floor, the table, the ceiling, and the cat. Still, she’s getting better and we haven’t seen her this enthusiastic about anything since …well, ever. In the meantime, feeding her takes longer, requires more grocery shopping, produces more mess, and gives us a baby that smells like a side dish from Panda Express. Hooray!
And now for the half time show. More update after these pictures:
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The other big step that Ger and I have been contemplating recently is abandoning our child. Oh, just for a few hours, mind you. Hiring a baby sitter, in other words. This is what really stinks about living away from extended family –there’s nobody to dump the kid on so you can go to a movie or eat dinner at a restaurant without nachos on the menu. You have to pay someone to do something that grandma and grandpa would give their left spleen to do. And not only that, it’s a huge ordeal finding someone that you trust. Geralyn has been asking around, pestering neighbors, the priest at our church, and complete strangers. So far, she’s only gotten recommendations for –and I’m not kidding– eleven and thirteen year olds.
That’s fine, I said, but I was still unsure of who was going to babysit the babysitter. I’m not leaving my baby alone with an eleven year old. I remember eleven year olds. We were all monsters back then and we didn’t deserve enough trust to take care of a guppy, much less a substantially more complicated organism like Samantha. And it only gets worse until they turn twenty three. Problem is, not many twenty three year olds will work for $9 an hour. Not now that Wal-Mart has moved into town.
In other Internet news, you should check out Irony Central’s “The Story About The Baby” if you want some great baby-related humor. It’s crass at times, but this guy writes almost exactly what I wanted these updates to be. The only difference is that I pretty much keep these updates factual so that friends and family can feel like they’re really keeping up on Sam without worrying about separating fact from fiction. This guy probably stretches the truth for the sake of comedy, but it’s really funny. make with the clicking.
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