So the dark days have come, wherein Soph rejects baby food and demands whatever it is we are eating. Mostly pizza crust and green bean casserole. This is some cause for concern for me. I was thrilled that she was such a voracious baby-food consumer, and I'd hoped that her love for it would endure, if not through the ages, at least through the first full year. But alas, she's discovered the wondrous tastes of all the disturbingly junky food we consume. And in comparison to Shrek-shaped Cheez-Its, what do ground up peas and squash have to offer? Which would you choose?
And so that battle begins, between what I want for her (vegetables) and want I want for myself (peace, quiet, carbs and fats). It doesn't help that she's so danged observant. You can't sneak in a healthy bite here and there. She'll take a look at what's heaped on her spoon and zip her lips like she's pleading the Fifth. And if she does by some small miracle intake a bit of mush, she spits and gags like I've tried to get her to take Cod Liver Oil. (Here I have to interject: poor, poor Ava, who does endure doses of the stuff.) It wasn't a week ago Soph was happily consuming baby food by the jarfull.
I'm once again reminded of the third tenet of parenthood (after Wash Your Hands and If You're Trying To Get Out The Door Or Sit Down For Dinner, Chances Are That Someone Will Be Poopy), Expect The Unexpected.
Fun at the Fair
1 year ago