They say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach... and I reckon William would agree – unless you’re handing him a plateful of mashed carrots.
The little chap turned six months last Sunday and with it came another milestone: the messy mission of weaning.
He was showing all the signs of wanting to explore the intriguing world of solid foods – holding his head steady while sitting up, picking up anything in sight and shoving it in his mouth, and even reaching for a forkful of our tea.
So out came a plastic bib so huge it looked like we’d wrapped him in a sheet of tarpaulin, a ridiculous plane shaped spoon (one of the hubby’s boy toy purchases) and some baby rice. It may look like extra sloppy semolina and have the consistency of wallpaper paste, but William thinks it’s the best thing since sliced bread (although to be fair, he’s not actually tried sliced bread yet!)
As soon as I wafted the spoon near his lips, his mouth opened wide like a little chick which hasn’t been fed for days while his arms waved around in sheer excitement.
Most advice out there suggests babies will have one or two spoonfuls to begin with while they get used to having this weird-tasting mush shoved in their mouth. But after the third mouthful and more arm-flapping, we realised we’d have to make some more of this not-so-gourmet gloop.
We had less success with mashed up carrot a couple of days later.
More of it ended up over my top than in his mouth and he wasn’t fooled when I tried to hide some of it in a bowl of pear purée.
For now, mashed-up banana, pear, porridge, sweet potato and even a bit of melon seem top of his menu choice – while the hubby and I are still trying to work our way through the tub of leftover carrot mush for our tea.