PlaydatesI managed to make it out to a playdate with Abby and Michael for the first time in over a month. Between the move, holidays, power outages, and my constant level of exhaustion, I'd fallen out of the usual Thursday routine. Which was a shame, because Abby loves her playdates. And as hard as it is to get organized and out of the house- once I'm there- I do, too.
She had a grand time today, though as I watched her interact with her peers, it began to occur to me that I may have to work with her on her"play-side" manner. As much as that's possible, anyway. I've been so focused on teaching her appropriate ways to handle Michael (hugging instead of hitting, kissing instead of poking, etc.) that I've ended up encouraging a level of physicality in her interaction that I think most other kids aren't used to (coming from other kids, anyway). And because she's much bigger than all of the other kids in her group, she tends to inadvertently topple them over or knock them into things when she tries to show affection.
She caused a buddy of hers to bump her head on a hard surface as she reached to hug and/or kiss her, and there were some tears. But as a result, out of nowhere, Abby displayed the first signs that I have seen of developing empathy. She turned down her chin, looked up with doe eyes and said, "I'm sorry." I never even knew that she could say the phrase, let alone that she would know how to apply it! Abby amazes, once again.
Now, if only I could explain to her that as much as Mommy, Daddy, and Michael love Abby hugs and kisses, this is not always the case for everyone else. Her playmate was certainly not in the mood for any more after her unfortunate accident, and I had to keep moving Abby away from her to give the poor girl some space.
Mum MumsNow that Michael is six months old, it's time to start playing with food. I've always found it amusing how so many people are so excited to get to this stage, because I've never really shared in the enthusiasm. It takes time and effort to make the meals, and extra planning to work in mealtimes. Not to mention the mess that they leave behind, on babies, floors, and other surfaces, and the eye-opening odor that they add to diaper changes. With Michael, I am feeling particularly apprehensive, because his reflux troubles have not subsided much, and I have no idea how he's going to handle the new things that I'll be putting in his little mouth. I may end up covered in spit-up of varying hues in the future, rather than the predictable shades of white, off-white, and mucous-white. Ditto for the rugs and furniture.
Between my feelings of apathy and the general level of exhaustion permeating our household, I shouldn't have been surprised that we never got around to making that first batch of pureed peas yesterday, in celebration of Michael's Half-Birthday. But I have been offering him the occasional Mum Mum (rice cracker) over the last couple of days, and it's definitely been a hit. He even feeds himself!
Already getting some pretty smelly farts out of the deal, unfortunately.
PeasThat first batch of pureed peas did get cooked up for dinner today. Michael dove in to the new experience with great excitement, initially.
For a long while, peas were Abby's favorite food, and it seemed as though Michael might share her tastes. He's having a great time, here, just a few bites in.
However, he soon began making strange faces, like this one...
...struggling to swallow, and ultimately, gagging. So, we called it quits after about a quarter of an ounce. I know that it's often necessary to introduce new foods up to 15 times, so there's no good reason for me to fret about this first experience (even though Abby took to new foods like a fish to water, with some few exceptions). But I can't help feeling like Michael might be my picky eater.
He did clean up nice, though.