Baby2011 enjoys food. It has taken a while to get him to understand that mummy does happy face when the food goes in his mouth and is not lobbed at the cat or the tv. Still, this cracks me up and even though I try and stay stern I can’t. One cheeky glance from baby2011 as he brings the food to his lips and then quick as a flash chucks it into orbit never fails to make me laugh. And doesn’t he know it!?
Today the marmite on toast was not acceptable to master2011. No, it was clearly not the same quantity of spread that gran does. He eats this for gran. Therefore he threw it at the cat.
The banana suffered the same fate. After baby2011 pointed and grunted at said banana I gave him a piece. He looked at it, licked it and then with all his might squashed it onto the table top and for good measure catapulted a bit onto the front room bookcase.
I gave in and went to the box of cheerios, these had been abandoned a while ago as I was finding them a bit like one does pine needles several months after Xmas. I gave him a few cheerios gingerly. He popped them in his mouth-halleluja! Breakfast on it’s way to completion. I gave him a small handful, he seized a fist full and with the most enormous grin threw them up into the air like confetti.
I washed, cut up and presented him with some grapes. He ate these. Excellent.
By now I’m running out of ideas. Eggs are a no no. I’ve learnt that lesson before. Any more fruit and I’ll be in trouble nappy wise later. Hmm, Weetabix. I’ll try Weetabix.
I mix the Weetabix with a glug of whole milk, mash it and microwave it for 15 secs so it goes all lovely and malty.
He opens his mouth (distracted by Baby Jake) and takes a bit mouthful of cereal. He turns and looks at me, gestures for the spoon, I oblige. He stares at the spoon and just when i think he’s actually going to do the right thing he flings it across the room.
We abandon breakfast.
I sweep and dettol the whole house. I wipe away every stain that the breakfast debacle has induced.
Baby2011 runs off and plays. That is until I sit down with my marmite on toast. He appears at my knees like a puppy begging, reaches up to my plate and steals a piece of my toast. He stuffs all of it in his mouth, nicks another bit and then legs it!
Whilst I’ve been mugged of breakfast I’m relieved he has eaten something.
Give me strength for lunch. And please don’t let me have to feed him in public!