Little Foodie in the Making

Let me start this post off by officially surrendering to the fact that my blog has been taken over by my child.  While it may not be that apparent, I tried valiantly for the first 6 months to control the ratio of Emery to Non-Emery posts.  I made efforts to squeeze in posts that, although full of pictures of sweet pea, were centered around social events and adult-y happenings.  But let's face it- our tiny monster is my world.  I'm addicted to her and everything she does.  There, I've said it.  Admitting it is the first step, right?  With that out of the way- I vow to try to continue documenting my non-Mama life as well.  There are a few events and happenings in the works that should aid in this pursuit.  In the meantime though, hopefully we can all breathe a sigh of relief with the knowledge that I am that Mama and I am aware of it.

I know that I historically (nearly half a year qualifies as "history," right?) have consolidated milestones and all things baby guuuuurl into her monthly posts.  Why am I pulling this particular milestone out?  Because I think that it represents a turning point for both little E and yours truly.

In life PE (pre-Em), I vaguely thought I could identify with parents' feelings about certain milestones- rolling over, sitting up, first smiles, first words... These are milestones that parents generally get excited about.  However there was another category of milestones I just didn't grasp- first haircuts, first birthday and first solids were definitely in that category.  These are the milestones parents seem to feel sadness about.  I couldn't relate to how a first could ever make someone feel sad.  Firsts mean new adventures, new challenges- things I've always generally been optimistic about.  As of August 23rd, I understand.  It's because a first signifies the beginning of a last.

We decided a long time ago that we were going to start Emery on solids sometime between her 5th and 6th month.  My goal was to make it as long as possible since it's recommended that you don't start until then and I have always been a devout rule-follower.  This proved to be a real struggle for us given that my doctor wanted us to start at 4 months, lady bug wasn't generally sleeping through the night and she hit all the requirements to start earlier (sitting well supported, birth weight doubled, showing interest in our food, etc).  Ryan & I decided in early August that Friday August 23rd was going to be the day.  I actually was excited and couldn't wait to see her reaction for the weeks leading up to it.

I found myself shocked when on the morning of I had a giant pit in my stomach.  I thought about it all day and tried to analyze my feelings.  I realized that the reason I was so down was because it represented the beginning of Emery's independence.  Up until that day she was completely reliant upon me for sustenance.  While that's an incredibly stressful and utterly exhausting responsibility, it also means she NEEDS me.  As an adult I recognize that needing and loving are not the same emotion but for a small child they are inextricably tied together.

Being a working Mama is tough and I find myself guilt-ridden some days no matter how hard I try.  It makes you wonder if you're doing the right thing.  If the benefits outweigh the costs.  Even on the days I struggled the most I could take comfort knowing that at the end of the day, she had to know and love her Mama because I was the only one who could feed her.

Starting solids means that becomes less and less the case.  I found myself wondering if she would start to feel less excited when she saw me- or even worse to start to forget me all together.  I wondered if I would be replaced by the teachers she loves so much at school.  Like I said, at this age the line between need and love is so thin.  As I sat pondering all these things I suddenly understood the sadness underlying milestones.  I guess that's how you become anointed as a parent.

I'm just thankful that I learned this delicate parental lesson with a milestone where the first doesn't represent an absolute last.  I plan to continue feeding the munchkin as long as I can reasonably make it fit into our lives.  The recognition of the impending end made me so sad that I can only imagine how heavy my heart will be when we do get to that last.  Someone is going to have to come over and share a bottle of wine (or two) with this mama!  I pray that even when that day comes, my little angel will still love (and need) me.  Heaven knows I always will.

You probably weren't expecting such deep thoughts with your morning coffee, were you?  Neither was I, so that makes 2 of us.  I guess I should go ahead and skip ahead to the pics of our little cutie embarking on her independence.  (P.S. She's doing very well with it.  Would you expect anything less with her genetics?  :c) )

Four adults.  One big camera.  Clearly something big is going down.  Fill a sister in.  (Nonnie & Grandpa happened to be over this day.  Em's school was closed for in-service so Nonnie watched her at our house for the day and then we all went out to dinner.)

Grandpa, I don't mean to alarm you, but this chair is conspicuously missing some bugs.

This is the big deal?  This green bowl?  You guys are easily entertained.

Dad.  You seeing this?  Mom is shoving a stick in my mouth.  We good with this?

Ha.  Mama you're so funny.  Remember when you thought Ms. Rosa would take your place?

What goes up, must come down.  What goes in a baby's mouth must come back out.  It's science.

I hope she doesn't still expect this kind of audience when she is 16. 

Let me help you out there, Mom.  You seem to be struggling.

All done!  Again?