Food fights

Lately I feel like I am fighting three battles a day. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. It's as though Mr. Monk has a short window in which he'll deign to open his mouth and I need to shovel as much food in as possible before the time is up. My heart starts racing and I stress over each bite knowing it could be his last. No matter what he's eating, or how much he seems to like it, he knows when he is done and he is D.O.N.E. Lately, he's learned to take off his bib when he's finished, shake his head and say "noooooooo." While all of this is helpful and seriously cute, it's a little painful when it comes two bites into a meal.

Granted, I know he's likely eating enough between the continuous consumption of milk (still coming from my boobies for only the next 8 days. Eek!) and cheddar bunnies (holy hell, we just discovered these--not sure who eats more, him or me). I still want to him to develop healthy eating habits and also maybe not think that he'll always get five different options for every meal. Since keeping him happy and alive is my primary job these days, I've become quite the accommodating chef/waitress: You don't like these peas, babe? How about some mac & cheese? No, ok, well what about some yogurt? Ok, no on the yogurt, but perhaps you'd like some chicken and rice? I've eaten more leftover applesauce in the past few months than in my whole life combined.

The only thing I know for sure that he wants is whatever I'm eating. Even if it's basically the same meal he's having, somehow he just knows it tastes better from my dish and my spoon. And, he loves to serve himself, which really means serving my legs, the floor and our getting-fatter-by-the-day dog heaping spoonfuls. To my horror, I find myself eating the half-chewed pieces of cracker, bagel, whatevs that he puts in my hand at random points during the day. I remember seeing moms do this before and being completely grossed out. But, on some level it seems less disgusting to just eat it than to carry it around. How did this happen?

I'm almost ashamed to admit that I ate this abc pear when he was done with it:





As the wee one gets less and less wee, he's less and less interested in baby food. We have a few items just toiling away in our cabinets and I'm thinking someone else might be able to make better use of them than our compost bin.

If you're in the Bay Area and have any extra food items, consider donating them:

St. Anthony's Foundation

Family House, Inc.

Full service buffet

Mr. Monk's rigorous afternoon of swinging and sand boxing was capped off with the following dinner meal:

Appetizer:
Puffs, spinach

Main:
Yogurt, peach
Egg, scrambled
Cheese, string
Peas, mashed

Dessert:
Pasta, meat sauce

We're thinking tape worm.

Spinach, apricot and yogurt

That's what I fed my baby for lunch. Sounds deelish, no? At first I started giving them to him separately, but then I figured I might as well up and whip 'em together. The baby food companies offer combinations that look and smell like vomit--beef, sweet potato and apple sauce; spinach, peas and pear. Why not just make some of my own and call it artisanal baby food? The more revolting it is to me, the more he seems to like it. Of course, we live in a city where one can buy a bacon maple apple donut or a prosciutto ice cream cone, so this is just training his palate for future culinary adventures. Tonight's dinner is chicken and watermelon mash. Just kidding, it's chicken and pears. Yum.

Feeding solids has been equally the most satisfying and frustrating part of parenting so far. I'll spend an hour making something that he'll eat one bite of (see picture of beets above, taken pre-revolt), but then he'll eat half an avocado straight off the pit. It is both interesting and annoying to see how Mr. Monk's taste differ from mine. I just assumed that he would love what I love and hate what I hate. Some foods, like the devil's sperm, mayonnaise, he is unlikely to have anytime soon because we won't allow them in our home. Actually, that is the only "food" non grata. Not coincidentally, I married a fellow mayo hater. I guess even if I'm not that not into a food, I should let him make up his own mind about it. A friend told me her pediatrician recommended giving her son a roasted lamb chop to suck on, so he gets the nutrients out without being able to swallow any chokeable pieces. Sounds like a prehistoric teething ring. Lamb is one of my least favorite meat treats, but maybe Mr. Monk will dig the lamb lollipop.

By the way, when did organic produce become a luxury item? Yesterday I went to Whole Foods and noticed that peaches were $4.99/lb. I knew that cherries were more expensive than gold, but peaches too? I spend a good portion of my non-income on produce. While I do think it's important to give Mr. Monk fresh, organic foods, this is getting ridiculous. It shouldn't be cheaper to buy processed baby foods than to make my own, which is what I'm finding. Time to start farming, or get a job at Whole Foods.