The most militant variety of the Baby Led Weaning fanatic would have you believe that putting anything in your baby’s mouth ever ever ever will almost certainly inflict deep psychological scars that will only be resolved after years of picky eating, food issues, and lots and lots of therapy. We’re a little less, shall we say, evangelical, about it. I’m a firm believer that as long as you are feeding your baby, the method of delivery is up to you.
For us, Baby Led Weaning just seemed like a natural fit for us, for our lifestyle and parenting style, and, most importantly, for our babies, and so we gave it a whirl, decided it worked for us, and stuck with it. I couldn’t claim I’ve never helped with a spoonful of this or that, but for the most part, what Kitty and Elma put in their mouths has been chosen by them.
Which makes Elma’s current favourite dinner time occupation all the funnier. She’ll settle in to her dinner quite the thing, and then as she decides that she’s eaten enough she just wants to share her bounty with the nearest stray mouth.
We went out for a big family lunch a few days after Christmas with 22 of my nearest and dearest relations (that’s just uncles, aunts, cousins and second cousins – and not the full compliment either), and Elma happily tucked into some fresh fish and little pile of peas and made a good inroad into the veritable haystack of chips on her plate.
But the chips were beyond her and she lifted a food smudged face to see who might help out.
Daddy was sat right next to her. Daddy likes chips.
Open wide Daddy, here comes the train!
Sometimes she’s had enough, and discovered that feeding other people is more fun than dropping the leftovers on the floor, and other times I think she just wants to share; she’ll sit on my lap giving me a little bite, then having a bit herself, then back to Mama again, and so on, right down to the very last crumb.
I don’t remember Kitty doing anything like this, and I know I should cease to be surprised that my daughters have different personalities, but I love it when Elma’s individuality comes shining through. Well that and it is just so cute having a one year old sat in your lap trying to feed you toast, even if we both get quite ridiculously sticky and jam splattered in the process.