If there's one phase of Jack's babyhood that I despised, that I don't miss, that I would cheerfully skip without a backward glance, it would be Starting Solid Foods. If you weren't already banging your head against the wall with the breastfeeding and the not sleeping and the nonexistent nap schedule and the teething, welcome to Solid Foods, your new reason to weep.
I started Molly on solids a few weeks ago, and I vowed to do it better this time. No stressing about which foods for how many days. No guilt trips about whether or not her fruits and veggies are homemade. No complaining about sinkfuls of dirty bowls and spoons, how long it takes, how annoying it is to transport, the cereal in her hair, the cereal in MY hair. We would get through these early weeks of pureed pears and gloppy cereal with our sanity intact.
So right now you are saying, "Gee, how's that going for you, Maggie?"
And I am smiling maniacally at you and shouting, "Not so great, Internet! Please send wine!"
It was such a struggle to get Molly to take a bottle (and still is, even though I'm really only nursing her at night these days) it should be no surprise that eating off a spoon is a trial for everyone too. At first I thought it was the general "What is this strange thing you are trying to jam inside my mouth" kind of difficulties, but it's become apparent that my oh-so-particular and temperamental girl is picky about her food as well.
For example! Molly is a big fan of pears. Pears? Always welcome in Molly's maw. But they must not, under any circumstances, be mixed into cereal (which, by the way, must be multigrain and no other). No, the pears must either be served straight up, or coating a tiny glob of cereal so that the actual bit of cereal is completely disguised. Bananas and apples are also acceptable, but don't try to trick her, she knows the difference.
As for veggies, what are those? The orange stuff? The green stuff? UM, NO THANK YOU. In the three or four weeks I've been feeding Molly solids, I think she's accepted two or three bites of vegetables, and that vegetable was squash. Carrots, peas, green beans, even sweet potatoes were rejected, the tongue-pushing-out accompanied by a withering look that said, "Mother, you must be joking."
It doesn't matter if I make her food runny or thick, smooth or clumpy, warm or cold. Even the homemade veggies, which my friends insist is the cure for a picky eater because "It tastes so much better!", won't pass Miss Molly's discerning lips.
A friend of mine sent me this link about "baby-led weaning" and I have to say I find it intriguing. How great would it be to go directly from the bottle to grilled cheese sandwiches? SUPER GREAT, I say! So today I cut a chunk of banana into teeny little pieces and -- GUESS WHAT -- she wouldn't eat those either.
So. I find myself, yet again, in a place of Needing Some Perspective On The Food Thing. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I thought I had at least a few more months before she found out kids don't like to eat their vegetables.