D-Bro is back from Oz and came over to hang out with us Friday afternoon. At dinner he asked if Lil G could have rice and then made a little pile of it in front of him. Most of it ended up on and around the child, but enough landed in his little mouth. And the experience of actually feeding himself registered.
At lunchtime today he clamped his lips shut at the spoonfuls of tasty baby food I was offering, only to do a little dance in his chair when Noah tossed him a noodle. Okay, you can have the noodle. But just the one. Oh, okay, feed yourself then. Please, one more bite of this delicious babyfood! No? Oookay.
After a few attempts at trying to feed him what he’s supposed to eat I just gave up and gave him a little pile of plain pasta. And he ate it all by himself.
I know, plain pasta is bad. I have to find an alternative. Spelt pasta or something. Anyway. Bon appetit, little one, I’m terribly proud of you. I can’t believe how big you already are.
PS At dinner he ate most of our gluten-free spelt pizza crusts. All by himself. All words I never thought I’d use for a meal I had eaten. Gluten-free. Spelt. Pizza. The times, they are a-changin’.