Well, we have officially moved into a new phase in Roman's development: the I-just-want-to-feed-myself-so-get-that-spoon-away-from-me phase. Marc and I have noticed over the last few days that Roman has become a not-so-great eater. Whenever we have tried to feed him, he pushes the spoon away or spits the food out or makes a really stinky face, and now we know that it isn't because he doesn't like the food; it's because he doesn't want us feeding him anymore. Really, Roman? REALLY? The bowl that you see above is the lovely fresh nectarine oatmeal that I made him for breakfast, which he usually loves but today decided that he wanted none of it. Since he was super cranky this morning, and I really didn't have much time to make something else, I improvised. Roman had a banana and a half with some Gogurt and a cereal bar, and he would get so upset if I tried to help him do anything, like, say, push the yogurt to the top of the tube so that he could actually eat some. Last night while I was getting my hair done, Marc sent me a text that read, "He wouldn't eat unless he could feed himself. What a mess." Here is the picture accompanying the text:
Thank you Peggy for the bib!! I have a feeling it will be used very often now. I guess I am just going to have to deal with the mess for a little while, which is absolutely the worst part for me. I cannot stand food mess, especially mushy, drooled-on food mess. The thought of it is revolting. How I worked so long in a restaurant I will never know... or perhaps because I worked in a restaurant for so long it has left me scarred.
There is, of course, an upside to all of this. It means that he can eat while I clean the rest of the kitchen or fold laundry. It means that I can just cut up food and give it to him so that Marc and I can eat our food while it's still warm as well. It means that we'll start eating dinner as a family since Marc and I usually wait to eat until Rome is in bed because it used to be much easier that way. It's a new level of freedom for the three of us, and while I am not happy that Romey seems to be becoming a little independent kid already (it is really too soon for me... I am not ready for this yet!), it does mean that Roman and I can have more time for the fun things when I can get the not-so-fun things done while his is occupied by his meal. Finger foods from here on out it is.
