"Mommy, what do babies eat?"
Soren has become quite the avid connoisseur of "real people" food. 'Twas not always so.... after spending 6 weeks in a NICU with nurses sticking tubes up noses and down throats, one can understandably be less enthusiastic than the average kid at having a person of the parent variety sticking rubber-coated spoons of goo in and around one's mouth.
The first feeding attempts in January (applesauce) were met with puckered lips and an intriguing expression that somehow melded looks of surprise, curiosity, and mild annoyance. Being, perhaps, over-enthusiastic about this new milestone I went a little crazy making up batches of all sorts of fresh organic purees; sweet potato, peas, black beans, carrots, squash, pears, you name it. Soren would, on a good day, take a timid bite (I assume to humor me), then refuse to eat any more. (By the way, if anyone is in the market for a few freezer bags full of perfectly proportioned, 1/2-oz servings of mashed veggies, please let me know...)
BUT! To Soren's amazement (and to ours!) he began mastering the whole opposable thumb trick, making it possible to take a Cheerio, previously considered best-suited for flinging off table tops in one dramatic sweep of the arm, and put it in his mouth with at least 30% accuracy. Since that day his coordination has vastly improved, and he is more than eager to try any and every type of food, so long as he can feed himself.
While the standard fare of bananas, avocados, and yogurt rank high on the favorite foods list, Soren seems to have a taste for strong foods. Hummus, the most garlicky and spicy varieties included, is a huge hit. I once gave him the smallest taste of a really spicy pasta I made, and he just about went nuts grabbing at my hand, the bowl, the fork, anything to get another bite. Though he's had just 2 or 3 tastes of sweets, he clearly takes after his mama's love for them. I gave him his first (very small!) taste of ice cream at the zoo, and he actually had a mini-toddler meltdown when I wouldn't let him eat it all himself.
But, I suppose I shouldn't be too quick to brag about his refined palate. I should admit that it wasn't long ago I was chopping vegetables for dinner, when I saw him diligently licking the kitchen floor. When he, laughing hysterically, finally let me get my finger in his mouth, I found a wad of chopped raw broccoli tucked away in his cheek, like a chipmunk. And I suppose I should mention that within a week of that I caught him savoring a piece of dried cat food like a delicious hard candy. We haven't had cats since August. I can't imagine where he found it.
Plucky old Soren is making a wonderful new discovery: The Water Bottle. This might not sound very astounding to the Dasini Generation (From Coca Cola, with love-- bottled tap water!), but think back into your murky past and you, too, might discover a dark time when your muscles could not sufficiently coordinate to swallow the delicious cool beverage.
However, those days are nearly behind our sweetie. When I hold his water bottle up to his mouth, he makes a cautious advance with an open mouth, and his eyes dart from left to right. As he takes a drink, more or less letting his mouth passively fill up with water, he bursts into laughter, spurting water all over his (and my) shirt. He swallows some, but he seems as surprised as he is delighted.
What I wouldn't give to get that much pleasure from drinking Cincinnati's tap water.
Who knew that having a 22 pound person sitting at the dinner table with could add such an exciting, humorous dimension to the every-day task of eating? What a funny life. What a great kid.
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