While we were in France, our little Leo had his first solid food. And my goodness did he love it. Hard not to when the food came straight from his grandfather's gardens and orchards. Hubby's mum prepared the vegetables into soup, whizzed up berries and mashed peaches. It was a lovely family thing and it all went swimmingly. But I couldn't help but look forward to being home in my own kitchen and to preparing his food myself.
I was telling this to a couple of friends today who have little ones about a year older than Leo and remarking how special I felt it was to prepare his food and how much I was enjoying it. They laughed at me. Wait until it comes back at your face or gets thrown across the room, they said. Or when you've come home from work and have to do the washing and the tidying and the dusting and then the food preparation wont feel so 'special'. Ok, so they may have a point. And the novelty will no doubt wear off soon.
But in the meantime, I
am enjoying it. And there
is something special about it. Pears and apples, broccoli and pumpkins. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that for 6 months he has only had my breastmilk, and I know that it has been completely up to me and my body to keep him alive and sustained. And I want to keep that going. Perhaps I am anticipating the end of the breastfeeding. Perhaps I just enjoy the wizz of the food processor. Or perhaps I am just revelling in the novelty while it lasts.
**we are also trying some baby led weaning (or baby wed leaning as I keep calling it - envisioning a baby in white on one foot). Stay tuned for adventures with broccoli stalks.
