Alice is 11 months old now, and my goodness, my head is spinning. In two months my quiet, easy going, peaceful baby has grown in to a loud, mobile, and wilful little girl (except when we are out, of course, then she’s all seriousness and solemn observation). I can’t believe how much everything has changed; about the only thing that has remained the same is that Alice is still a ridiculously happy little person. With all these changes come a lot of excitement and celebration and photo taking. During this time, Alice had mostly been my guide; if she’s happy, I’m happy. However, I still seek the reassurance from people who know more about raising babies than me, like other mothers, my mother, and Plunket, because as well as celebration and excitement , there is also a lot of uncertainty with so many changes so quickly.
One of the things I have been uncertain about has been food. When Alice was nine months old she was still eating mostly pureed vegetables and fruit. I could count on my fingers and toes what she had eaten since her first taste of baby rice at six months old. But at nine months, my mild uncertainty grew to full on panic and I did something I’d never done before; I changed something for Alice before she told me she was ready.
In the space of a few days I was given screeds of advice from people that I trust, advice that was given with love and good intentions after I had asked for it. I was told, unequivocally, that at nine months babies should be eating what adults eat. I was told that babies who stay on pureed food for too long become fussy with texture, as anything they haven’t experienced before 18 months of age they would refuse. I was told to give her everything because babies at nine months put everything in their mouths. I was told to stop worrying about her gag reflex. I was told she had to hold the spoon so she learns how to feed herself. I was told that iron deficiency is catastrophic in infants and essential for healthy brains, and so Alice should be eating lots of red meat. I was asked if I eat paté or lambs fry and when I said I didn’t, I was told to go and buy it anyway and given recipes for how to prepare them.
As well as this, some of the babies around Alice’s age were having full-on meals and eating all sorts of things, from butter chicken to cream donuts. And here was my girl, nine months old and not moving from where she sat and eating smashed up pumpkin and silver beet from a spoon she doesn’t hold (because, to be honest, I wouldn’t let her and she never asked for it). For more than a few awful moments I thought my relaxed approach to introducing new food had stunted Alice’s development.
Overwhelming, right?
So, what followed was a week of me giving Alice the food she’d already been eating in its normal form (cooked, of course), as well as introducing yoghurt, ground beef, cheese fingers and I’m pretty sure she had her first wine biscuit around this time, too. What also followed was a week of Alice hating meal times, habitually waking during the night for the first time in seven months, and having a struggle with every bottle. She gazed at the broccoli florets, and only after I put it in her mouth for her would she chew, gag, throw up, and not eat any more. After a week I gave up and we went back to more pureed food than not and things settled again. Of course this was concerning it itself – when the hell am I going to transition Alice to proper food when she’s fussy already?
It’s funny how I haven’t learned from months of lessons that Alice has taught me.
About three weeks ago, Alice started refusing to eat off the spoon unless she was holding it. She started yelling – YELLING – at me when I tried to give her pureed food, but would open her mouth like a new born chick waiting for a worm if she saw yoghurt, scrambled egg, pieces of raw plum or chicken coming her way. When I gave her mixed vegetables one night she ate all the peas first, then the beans, then the corn, while picking up the carrots between her thumb and index finger and tossing them on to the floor, one by one. Alice breaks mini rice crackers in half and shares some with me. She points to things on my plate at dinner time, with a hopeful, hungry look on her face. And as for putting everything in her mouth, nothing is safe be it edible or not. There is no hint of her being fussy with texture, and she took away the need for me to intentionally introduce her to nuts when I found her sucking basil and cashew pesto off a plate she found on the coffee table.
I think back on my approach to food a few months ago and wonder what on earth I was thinking.
When I think about those conversations I had with those lovely, knowledgeable people when Alice was nine months old and I was freaking out, I wonder what stopped me from taking their advice and comparing to what I already knew about Alice, myself, and our existing approach to meal times. The week that followed would have been very different if I had thought about things rationally.
Because the truth is, Alice wasn’t putting everything in her mouth at nine months old.
The truth is I was never concerned about her gag reflex. I didn’t introduce solid food because she didn’t need it, not because I was afraid.
The truth is Alice was (is) getting plenty of iron from milk and vegetables, and her intelligence is anything but stunted.
The truth is that Alice has four or five years to learn how to use a spoon before people start asking questions, and she can clearly feed herself.
The truth is that I wouldn’t have had sushi, camembert cheese or vodka shots when I was a baby, so maybe not having every single food and texture under the sun isn’t such a big deal.
The truth is paté and lambs fry is flipping gross and I’d never, ever inflict that on Alice without her choosing it first!
The truth is that some of the babies I had been comparing her to starting eating solid food at four months old so had that much more time to experience food.
The truth is that Alice is observant and intelligent and discerning, and has always been capable of letting me know when she was ready for something to change. I don’t know why I didn’t trust her to do it with food, either.
Food can be such a big issue for families. I feel it every day – wanting so desperately to make sure Alice is eating a variety of foods but not so much to make her feel ill. Wanting to give her healthy foods that don’t break the bank or deprive Alice of texture experiences. Wanting to offer wholesome food that doesn’t take hours to prepare after a long day but not resorting to jars and sandwiches because I’m feeling tired. I see now that fussiness isn’t solely caused by offering pureed food or less than one hundred per cent dedication to baby-led weaning (another blog, another time). Fussy eaters can also be a product of parents stressing about what and how their babies eat.
Alice has shown me, among other things, to embrace my old, relaxed approach to food before I freaked myself out. She has assured me that she’ll lead the way, I just need to make sure the fridge is full. And now, dinner time is fun again, Alice is more hilarious and happy than ever, and my goodness, her cheese and corn mini muffins are pretty delicious if I must say so myself.
On the menu for lunch today? Mashed pumpkin and parsnip, a meatball, and maybe some stewed apple as a sweet little treat.
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