Brace yourselves for the most boring "Moooooooommyyyyyyy Blog" post of all time. But with life so idyllic up here in Northern Ontario, I don't have much to complain about and therefore the creative juices are not flowing very fast. I could brag about the sun, and the lake, and the loons, and the wakeboarding, and the baby swimming, and the saunas, and the familyfuntimes, but I'm doing that enough as it is on Twitter. So, I'll spare you the tedium.
Until Stella was about 11 months old, she had no interest in food. I, crunchy granola type-A perfectionist mother that I am, had grand ambitions for baby-led weaning, but she was / is a real gag n' barf champion, so it wasn't right for us. She needed purees.
So I was spooning gourmet home-made purees into her very unreceptive firmly clamped shut mouth (shut, that is, unless she was gagging and barfing up my glorious concoctions). I was certain that in addition to failing at baby sleep, I was also failing brilliantly at baby feeding. I was happy if Stella would eat one teaspoon of food. A miracle would be a tablespoon. Throughout the course of a whole day. Even at 11 months old.
And then one day my mum, against my omg-I-must-do-everything-exactly-by-the-baby-book rules, gave Stella some very garlicky and lightly salted guacamole. And Stella ate that shit up.
Since then, Stella eats for the following things with reckless abandon:
- Home-made (super garilcky) hummus
- Chickpea soup (with mad amounts of garlic)
- Curried lentils (and a spicy curry at that)
- Green curry chicken
- Baingan Bharta (curried eggplant)
- Goats Cheese
- Braised lamb shank and swiss chard
- Dark chocolate (Wut. She's Swiss. Of course I feed her chocolate*)
It is totally weird. I do not understand her eating habits. Except that perhaps, maybe, she should have been born in India. But I am totally sure that her eating adventurousness is directly related to my mumsicle awesomeness. My parenting is absolutely responsible for her taste buds.
Stella's two new BFFs. There's the geriatric fat white rocket on the left. And ol' deaf n' arthritic on the right. Although deaf n' arthritic is still swift enough to snatch up a slice of toast out of a hand that drooped just a bit too low. And yes, that is a Saveur magazine on the floor, because I want you all to know just how casually awesome and gourmet we are.
And, one final point: a baby with garlic breath is just so unnatural.
*Okay, okay, whatever, judgy moms. I gave her a piece smaller than a pea. Twice. But now she has chocolate radar, and screams eeeEEEEEEEEhhhhhhh! the moment she sees me eating some.