There’s something charming about a wooden spoon, isn’t there? It certainly seems more pleasant to the eye and to the touch than, say, my old, mismatched silverware or my half-melted, black, plastic stirring spoons.
Bennett was recently gifted an adorable, baby spoon made out of cherry wood. When I showed it to him, he was perfectly content to gnaw away on the new goody (with my supervision, of course).
Then the lightbulb clicked on! Brian and I were both home and had the time to dedicate to paying attention to Bennett’s first solid food experience. Being that he seemed happy enough with the spoon in his mouth, it couldn’t hurt to put a little something yummy on that spoon, right?
The only problem was that we hadn’t yet assembled his high chair. Brian promptly lugged it out of the garage and ripped the box open. Per usual when Brian’s assembling anything new, I heard him mutter, “It’s missing a part.” Listen. Nothing is ever REALLY missing a part. What’s missing is actually a thorough reading of the assembly instructions.
By the time that we were ready to give this a go, Bennett had completely passed out on my shoulder. Veteran parents would have shrugged and put the solid food agenda off for a few hours. We? Well, we decided to strap the slumbering baby into his new, terrifying high chair and attempted to convince him to wake up for a foreign food experience.
You can imagine how this looked.
But you don’t have to.
It looked like this.
So, so, so sad.
Having learned our lesson, we let the boy sleep, then nurse, then try again later. This time we were more successful! And by successful, I mean that he didn’t seem repulsed by the experience and did a decent job swallowing most of his food. I had honestly expected more of a mess, but was pleasantly surprised.
This is his satisfied face, post-solid food:
But solid is relative. I suppose it was a smidge thicker than breast milk, but it still dripped off the spoon as a liquid. A teeny stepping stone into the wonderful world of food!