Carrothead.
I never really gave much thought to introducing solids. I sort of assumed, without really thinking about it or doing much research, that I’d be a baby-led-weaning mom. I just figured I’d do what my friends had done: wait until my kid was about six months old and sitting on his own, steam up some broccoli to the point of almost-mushy one day, and let him go to town.
Belgium had other ideas.
It started during the crèche acclimation period when the carer mentioned their menu and that the next oldest baby — a mere month older than Nicolas’s 3 months — would be starting purées the following week. I was surprised but figured I’d ask the pediatrician about it the next day at our well-child visit.
I was relatively confident that our doctor would agree that baby-led-weaning made sense. After all, I had done a little more research by then — following a couple of American registered dietitians on Instagram — and had learned that BLW was really the more modern way to go. It surprised me when she pooh-poohed the idea and said that kids didn’t get enough calories by “just playing with the food.” Furthermore, she argued, babies needed to start eating purées at around four months for developmental and allergy reasons. But then she said we’d talk more at the the next appointment and that was that.
With me back at work, Nicolas at crèche, Joe soldiering on, and all three of us adjusting to our new routine, the month flew by.
Joe took Nicolas to his four-month exam at the end of July and came back with a “recipe” for a first meal: 50 grams of carrots and 50 grams of potatoes steamed soft and then mixed with a teaspoon of oil in the food processor. We were to start right away.
Nicolas and I went to the embassy health unit the next day for his vaccinations. I asked one of the nurses about starting solids. After explaining the differences between the American and Belgian approaches (and assuring me that neither was wrong), she reminded me that I’m the mom and told me not to stress.
(But I did.)
We held off for almost another month. First because the vaccines made Nicolas feel gross. And then because he had a cold. And then because making your own baby food is a pain in the butt. And then because Amazon.de took a week to deliver the Babycook that was going to make it easier to make food.
But early last week we figured it was time. Nicolas had been showing more interest and curiosity about food at our mealtimes and we were right in the middle of the Belgian and American timeframes. So, we pulled out the camera, put a bib on the baby, and got ready for the big moment.
It was a disaster.
Our perpetually-happy kid took one tiny bite before whimpering and shaking. It turns out that carrots can be terrifying. We tried again a couple of days later and the results were a little bit better but he simply wasn’t having it. So we tried again a couple days after that with only an incremental improvement. Less tears but no actual eating. I figured we’d try again next week.
When I picked up Nicolas from crèche on Wednesday, I had strapped him to my chest for the walk home and was just about to leave when the carer — my favorite of the bunch — turned back around. “Madame! J’ai un demande… les legumes?” Trying to meet me halfway with simple French and her limited English, I knew exactly what she was getting at. They felt it was time for Nicolas to start eating vegetables at lunch. Between my toddler-level French and simple English, I got her to understand that we’d tried but it hadn’t gone well. She gently persisted and assured me that difficulties were normal at first. “Demain?” she asked but offered up “la semaine prochaine?” when she saw my hesitation at jumping in the very next day. I agreed, satisfied that I’d at least have the weekend to keep trying to introduce solids on my (and my baby’s) terms.
So at lunchtime today, I pulled out the purée, put a bib on Nicolas, and got ready to stop to comfort an upset child.
The tears didn’t come.
Today, carrots weren’t so terrifying. Squishy and sweet and some out but mostly in. Followed up by one big, messy grin.
