First, an unrelated tidbit. N~ and W~ figured out how to climb the big tree in my side yard today. Be still my mommy heart.
So, here I sit. You would think that by the fourth child, I wouldn’t question little things like when to start solid foods. I know the official answer: their guts aren’t ready until about six months. I also know that my pediatrician (young as she is) goes more with the slightly out-of-date answer of four to six months. At our appointment a week or so ago, she gave me the green light to start him when I want to (like I’ve ever needed her permission before I did anything…). And, of course, anyone who has seen my kids know that they are big. And, really, how full can a big kid get off of a strictly liquid diet?
I haven’t been consistent on this issue. N~ had no interest in solids, even after the six-month mark (of course, N~ is still a super-picky eater with a body like a flamingo–way skinny and all legs). I think that W~ was about 4 1/2 or 5-months-old when I got tired of trying to hold him back as he dove at my plate. I honestly don’t remember when we started with C~ (Can you blame me? At that point I had a baby, an almost 2-year-old, and a 3-year-old. You’d be fuzzy on the details, too.).
So, all of this to say that E~ has definitely decided that he is ready for solid food. He has developed the baby bird syndrome. As I walk by with his brothers’ plates, he opens wide and grins. I’m cute–stick something in my mouth! As I held him today while eating my lunch, he would grab my hand in an attempt to pull my salt and vinegar chips to his mouth. When I thwarted his attempts, he would suck on my hands like he was trying to consume their essence. There is no question about his intent.
I blame his father.
Before this past Sunday, E~ had been watching our eating with interest, but he hadn’t been trying to get the food. One shared hot dog changed all of that. No, no, you don’t have to call child protective services on us. We understand the whole choking hazard thing. Sean just (carefully) let him suck on the hot dog. A little eau de nitrates. And I protested. I really did. Right after I took a couple of photos* to commemorate my little guy’s first food.
*As always, if you want to see the pictures, let me know and I’ll email you the password (as long as I can confirm that you aren’t one of the creeps who finds my blog searching things like “pictures of little boys”).