The dietary ups and downs of little kids make for such boring fodder, but to their doting parents, what makes it past their mouths is such a life and death issue.
I am therefore pleased to note that at this point, Dee has overcome food resistance and (more in line with her tubbiness) is now a bit of a glutton.
Actually I think she started eating after her papa took over her menu. Ooops.
The canny man introduced oats and condensed milk breakfasts, sometimes with fruit, in place of the bread morsels I was throwing at her.
And for dinner, in place of the steamed-for-five-minutes silken tofu with peas which lazy me had been feeding her for weeks, he sweats over brown-rice porridge with a mélange of chopped goodness including carrots, avocado, chicken, pork, broccoli, put on the boil for two hours.
In my defence, I can only say that the last time I tried feeding her porridge, it didn’t work. So perhaps his TIMING is right. Perhaps nine months plus is the magical time when Dee is finally ready to eat.
And she does. She laps it all up. Five minutes and a whole big bowl is gone.
KK is now her official feeder, he says he gets a huge kick out of watching the porridge he so painstakingly cooked disappear.
After that she tries to go after our dinner food, our dinner fruits, our supper biscuits.
Only thing: She still doesn’t drink water.