Seven Month Update
Dear Lana,
You turn seven months old today. I know you can hardly believe that we made you wait almost seven months before feeding you sweet potatoes, prunes, and pears, but you have more than made up for lost time over the past few weeks. I would love to accurately describe the gusto with which you approach each meal – the twinkle in your eyes, the whimpers of excitement, the gaping mouth to remind us where the food should be inserted. But words will never do a better job of capturing the moment than this photo does. Looking at this picture makes me want to interrupt you from whatever you are doing right this moment to give you a bite of applesauce, just so I can see that adorable expression.
Your enthusiasm for new foods is completely and utterly amazing to me because you are the product of two of the pickiest eaters on the planet. As a child, I loathed eating and treated each meal like a terrible chore that I would have happily avoided if only it weren’t so essential for life. I hid food in napkins, fed it to the dog under the table, and made rearranging food on a plate to look like it’s been eaten into an art form. For years, the dinner conversation in my home always included a negotiation of how many more bites of food I had to eat. Once I even convinced a substitute teacher at a “clean your plate” preschool that I was allergic to everything in the meal but the Jello.
While I was manipulative when it came to food, your father was downright defiant. His parents on two occasions attempted to make him eat something he didn’t want. The first time he was told he could not leave the table until he cleaned his plate. He sat at that table all night long, only getting up when it was time for school the next day. On the second occasion he actually sampled the food in question (asparagus) and then promptly threw it up all over the table. Well played, young John.
Your father and I have expanded our palettes somewhat since childhood, but still remain far more selective than your average 30-year olds. I am so pleased that we have not thus far passed this affliction on to you and I hope you will continue to love discovering new foods. I know we will continue to enjoy watching you, our adorable Lana Bear.
Love,
Mom
You turn seven months old today. I know you can hardly believe that we made you wait almost seven months before feeding you sweet potatoes, prunes, and pears, but you have more than made up for lost time over the past few weeks. I would love to accurately describe the gusto with which you approach each meal – the twinkle in your eyes, the whimpers of excitement, the gaping mouth to remind us where the food should be inserted. But words will never do a better job of capturing the moment than this photo does. Looking at this picture makes me want to interrupt you from whatever you are doing right this moment to give you a bite of applesauce, just so I can see that adorable expression.
Your enthusiasm for new foods is completely and utterly amazing to me because you are the product of two of the pickiest eaters on the planet. As a child, I loathed eating and treated each meal like a terrible chore that I would have happily avoided if only it weren’t so essential for life. I hid food in napkins, fed it to the dog under the table, and made rearranging food on a plate to look like it’s been eaten into an art form. For years, the dinner conversation in my home always included a negotiation of how many more bites of food I had to eat. Once I even convinced a substitute teacher at a “clean your plate” preschool that I was allergic to everything in the meal but the Jello.
While I was manipulative when it came to food, your father was downright defiant. His parents on two occasions attempted to make him eat something he didn’t want. The first time he was told he could not leave the table until he cleaned his plate. He sat at that table all night long, only getting up when it was time for school the next day. On the second occasion he actually sampled the food in question (asparagus) and then promptly threw it up all over the table. Well played, young John.
Your father and I have expanded our palettes somewhat since childhood, but still remain far more selective than your average 30-year olds. I am so pleased that we have not thus far passed this affliction on to you and I hope you will continue to love discovering new foods. I know we will continue to enjoy watching you, our adorable Lana Bear.
Love,
Mom
Labels: monthly update
2 Comments:
Chick-fil-A in the pic? I love me some Chick-fil-A.
You and me, both. The Chick-fil-A Dwarfhouse rocks! Before anyone freaks out, we did not let Lana have waffle fries, even though she made several lunges toward them.
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