Black Robin

A video of Oliver’s favorite thing to do at the family reunion; poking sticks in sand.

11 Months old. Sometimes he hardly seems like a baby anymore, cruising and climbing on everything imaginable. He takes great delight in ripping things from shelves, bouncing on the couch, chasing the cats, and emptying drawers. Then he’ll bump his head and the world comes crashing down.

There is such a war going on in his little mind. A growing need for independence, ‘Don’t touch me! Don’t help me!’. Screams of anger and frustration if I try to interfere. Contrast this with his intense need for closeness. Inconsolable crying if set down, clinging desperately to my leg. Kisses. Hugs. Love.

Everything is dramatic, everything is intense. How to handle all these new emotions? Anger, pleasure, fear, surprise, joy, sorrow. Everything is new in his eyes.

He screams when the garbage can is denied him, or the fireplace, or a knife. He throws his head, arches his back; all the frustration in the world contained in his small body. Tears well on the instant, and he feels more than I could every know.

Then there’s the other side. The pleasure he gets from playing chase, or peekaboo, or dancing. That unabashed joy of play. His squeals and screams of delight pull me along with him and for a minute or two or three I can also get lost in his enchanting world.

It’s been a pretty great 11 months. In fact, it’s been magical.

I’ve decided to take up sewing. These pants were one of the first things I tried, a nice and easy pattern.

Made out of David’s old t-shirts.

I know my opinion can’t be trusted, being his Mother and all.

So tell me truly, is he as absolutely, fabulously, hormone-inducingly cute as I think?

Why do I even bother to buy him toys?

What I can’t figure out, is how by just touching the keys he can manage to pull up our internet banking site, open the ftp and upload files to the server, allow Google to access our harddrive, change the screen resolution, and then turn off the computer.

Have I given birth to some sort of computer monster? He’s like a virus in baby form.

Oh yes, he has also figured out how to turn on the TV…

Innocence.

Being the unorthodox people that we are, David and I decided not to follow the standard practice in introducing a baby to solids. Rather than doing purees, we started straight onto finger foods. Called Baby Led Weaning.

There are a number of ideas behind it, here’s a few I can remember.
A baby knows best how hungry they are, so letting them feed themselves allows them to have the right quantity of food. Another is that if you start solids at 6 months a baby is perfectly capable of eating finger foods, so why do purees and just have to transition them later? There is supposed to be less issues with gagging when they don’t first learn on purees, since they never get the idea that they can just swallow the food without chewing it. This has definitely been the case with Oliver, he chews food very well. Also, apparently learning to be ok with different textures can be an issue with some babies, and feeding finger foods is supposed to alleviate that.

Obviously I have no idea how accurate these (and other) claims are. I suspect, like most things, there are quite a few exaggerations about how ‘amazing’ the benefits are in comparison to feeding purees. So far though, it has worked very well for Oliver.

When we first gave Olly solids he didn’t end up actually consuming much. Meals were more a time of playing and squishing different textures. Not to mention learning how to get those slippery things into his mouth.

Things have now changed quite drastically.

At lunch yesterday he managed to scoff an entire avocado… (not to mention all the pumpkin, kumara, and banana)

It’s been surprising how much he likes strong flavors. Hummus with garlic, meat cooked in curry sauce (without the hotness, but with aromatic spices), rye bread, and probably lots of other things we’re not game enough to let him try. So far the only thing he actually doesn’t like is steamed broccoli (although he likes it with curry).

The last few days he has even started to make use of those chubby cheeks, squirrel like. You know, stuffing them while shoving more food into his mouth until nothing more will fit and it is oozing out from his lips as he tries to chew.
That’s generally when he gives me a big, messy, grin.

I took this photo yesterday as the late afternoon sun was shinning through our living room doors. It’s almost totally undoctored, just a little level adjustment.

I love it!