This was it - the day had finally arrived...Pumpkin was going to eat REAL food (or at least as "real" as you can call that disgusting jarred baby food). We were going to wait until the doc said to do it, but Friday night we were sitting at the restaurant where she was all but drooling over my baked potato and the waitress was appalled that I was not yet giving her food. So I tried a couple bites of plain baked potato and it was not a total disaster, so we decided the time had come.
I woke up early Saturday morning and almost skipped (if I knew how to skip) through the grocery store picking up plates, spoons, sippy cups (as if), snack packs, baby food, rice cereal - you name it, if it was on the baby food aisle, it was in my shopping cart. I got home and we didn't even finish unpacking the groceries before we had her strapped into a high chair at the table (teaching her good eating habits early is important) with a plate and spoon. We started with plain rice cereal (as the almighty Internet had advised) and I had Aaron armed with a video camera (see below) to catch every minute of this milestone.
I expected food everywhere, giggles, squeals, and spitty faces. I expected to do "airplane" and soak in her delight, both of us covered in rice like a heartwarming Gerber commercial. What I got was screaming hysterics and a plate of untouched food. This cannot be MY CHILD, not wanting to eat - that is unheard of in the George family. That is what we do. We eat. We eat and we feed people. I was devastated, she was devastated. I barked at Aaron to stop filming and gave her a bottle.
Later her Nona came over and we tried again, this time with bananas. More screaming and the saddest little face you can imagine. You would have thought I was poisoning her. I took the spoon out of the equation and just tried finger-feeding her as she sat on my mom's lap (going against all the Internet advice about good eating habits). She allowed a few bits in her mouth, mostly because her bottom lip was dragging the ground and I snuck it in that way, but we ultimately resorted to the bottle again.
Sunday - same attempt, same outcome. The definition of insanity, I know. Of course, Sunday she did have a dirty diaper that could have killed a grown man from a mile away. This would seem to have indicated that she ate 40 pounds of food. Sadly, that was not the case and the diaper resulted from only two half-fingers of banana-rice. The morals of the story seems to be that she hates bananas and rice and that I better watch what I wish for, because if yesterday's stink was any indication of what's in store when she actually LIKES to eat, I hope she is potty trained SOON.
So we'll try again tonight. Maybe some squash for her Uncle Jess.
I woke up early Saturday morning and almost skipped (if I knew how to skip) through the grocery store picking up plates, spoons, sippy cups (as if), snack packs, baby food, rice cereal - you name it, if it was on the baby food aisle, it was in my shopping cart. I got home and we didn't even finish unpacking the groceries before we had her strapped into a high chair at the table (teaching her good eating habits early is important) with a plate and spoon. We started with plain rice cereal (as the almighty Internet had advised) and I had Aaron armed with a video camera (see below) to catch every minute of this milestone.
I expected food everywhere, giggles, squeals, and spitty faces. I expected to do "airplane" and soak in her delight, both of us covered in rice like a heartwarming Gerber commercial. What I got was screaming hysterics and a plate of untouched food. This cannot be MY CHILD, not wanting to eat - that is unheard of in the George family. That is what we do. We eat. We eat and we feed people. I was devastated, she was devastated. I barked at Aaron to stop filming and gave her a bottle.
Later her Nona came over and we tried again, this time with bananas. More screaming and the saddest little face you can imagine. You would have thought I was poisoning her. I took the spoon out of the equation and just tried finger-feeding her as she sat on my mom's lap (going against all the Internet advice about good eating habits). She allowed a few bits in her mouth, mostly because her bottom lip was dragging the ground and I snuck it in that way, but we ultimately resorted to the bottle again.
Sunday - same attempt, same outcome. The definition of insanity, I know. Of course, Sunday she did have a dirty diaper that could have killed a grown man from a mile away. This would seem to have indicated that she ate 40 pounds of food. Sadly, that was not the case and the diaper resulted from only two half-fingers of banana-rice. The morals of the story seems to be that she hates bananas and rice and that I better watch what I wish for, because if yesterday's stink was any indication of what's in store when she actually LIKES to eat, I hope she is potty trained SOON.
So we'll try again tonight. Maybe some squash for her Uncle Jess.
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