When the littlest was born it was almost four years to the day since we’d held the middle in our arms at the very same hospital.
1. The broom is my new best friend. When the big and middle started solid food we had a dog in the house and it wasn’t until after he died 2 years ago that I realized how much human food he actually consumed. To this day I’m amazed he wasn’t morbidly obese with a serious case of chronic diarrhea. I now sweep my kitchen at least twice a day because the geriatric cat and neurotic cat are doing a piss poor job of eating the littles leftovers. Given that he’s affectionately referred to as ‘tank’ I’m shocked that 80% of his food ends up on the floor.
2. One for you, one for me. I’ve spent the last four weeks trying to figure out how to get a spoon past grabby mcgrabbers and then I remembered that giving a baby their own spoon generally means they’ll ignore yours long enough for you to sneak it towards their mouth. That one realization made me feel like I could solve all the worlds problems in an afternoon (with a handful of spoons clutched to my chest).
3. Never underestimate the power of dry toast. When you’re hungry and two children are hungry and the baby is hungry, small pieces of dry toast can buy 10 minutes of breakfast-making sanity. Dry toast is also easier to sweep up than sticky rice puff cereal. And oatmeal.
4. It doesn’t matter if it’s from a jar, organic, home made, home grown, all food, once pureed or mashed, will dry like bloody cement on the high chair / floor / patio door / kitchen counter / kitchen table. Too many minutes spent scraping and cursing have reminded me that irrespective of the chaos around you, always clean the high chair as soon as the baby is done eating.
5. Food and fashion don’t mix. Cute bibs are thin and too small and generally useless. The little wears doubled receiving blankets affixed around his chubby little neck with a clothes pin. By the third child, ‘pretty’ no longer cuts it.