(Otherwise known as ‘how the hell do I explain BLW to my Nan?’)
Most Sundays we have dinner at the mother’s. It’s a bit of a tradition really; as kids we always went to Nan’s for lunch and in the absence of enough place for us all to sit at their new house, we all head to the mother’s instead. Usually we eat a roast dinner – even in the merciless heat of the summer – except when the sister complains that we always eat a roast. Then the mother cooks something different and we all complain we wanted a roast – we only do it to needle the sister.
This Sunday was roast chicken. As the mother served I popped a few bits on a plate for Li’l Mister; a potato; two carrot sticks; some chicken and some runner beans. I decided red cabbage* was probably not safe in the hands of a seven month old. The mother reckoned I was giving him a lot of food. She was possibly right, but I knew what I was doing.
We sat down to eat and by the end of the meal, Li’l Mister had fed himself and probably only 10% of what I’d given was left. I would say on his plate but we’d given up on that idea only moments after we’d sat down. The leftovers were on the highchair tray, down his front, wedged along the sides of the cushion. Surprisingly enough, very little had actually made it to the floor. Yup, this is what BLW is all about.
The next day the boys and I popped over to Nan’s. She asked when I’d start feeding Li’l Mister with a spoon. I explained that we did sometimes; he devours porridge and will quite happily eat purees or chopped foods from a spoon. But when will you start totally spoon feeding, she asked. So you know how much he’s eating.
Knowing how much the kid is eating is not a problem. We all saw how much food he wolfed down on Sunday at dinner. Much like his parents and his older brother, knowing how to stop him eating would be more of an issue. The boy likes his food. Regardless of whether he’s being spoon-fed or feeding himself, he always seems to be getting enough to eat; he complains loudly if he doesn’t. And you only have to look at him to know he’s not starving: he’s a big boy, already at the extent of his six to nine month clothes.
So I tried to explain that he was doing ok, that total spoon feeding wasn’t necessary. I’m not entirely convinced I’ve turned my Nan into a BLW champion, but she now, at least, understands that it’s all ok.
Have you had BLW battles with your family?
*Yes, we were eating red cabbage in August. It was frozen, left over from Christmas. Quite possibly Christmas Eve 2008 when the mother asked me to buy red cabbage as the local supermarket had run out. She didn’t say how many she needed so I bought three, just in case. I swear we’re still eating that same cabbage. The family never let me forget it either.
I’m like you, combining spoon and BLW-esque feeding with LLC. I think my family thought I was jumping the gun by letting her have lumps and finger foods from the start but once they saw her in action I think they realized that she can chew and handle the food better than they expected. Had to laugh about your cabbage saga too
I don’t know much about baby lead weaning but my little girl is 7 months too and reading your post I think I should just get on and start giving her food she can hold as I’m just spoon feeding her at the moment. She has fingers of toast and banana, race cakes etc but thats about it, ive just been blending up everything else. Is it a case of chopping things up or do you just give things in big chunks so they can hold it and nibble bits off?
I actually had a lovely and validating experience with my Gran & BLW. She came to visit in June when Kyra was 8 months, and in the beginnig she thought I was crazy. She asked all the usual questions – won’t she choke, how do you know how much she’s eating, what if she’s still hungry etc etc. Towards the end of her month long visit, she was washing dishes one evening (if you stay anything over 1 night you’re put to work in my house!) and randomly out the blue said “I suppose it makes sense.” I looked up at her confusedly, to which she responded “I mean, I didn’t puree food for your mother. It was only when [my aunt] was born almost a decade later that there were purees and we were told the babies had to have that to be healthy. My mother certainly never made purees”
I was pleased, both that she was obviously thinking about it, and that she saw the sense in it, and felt validated when she added that Kyra was obviously doing well with it anyway, and ate a more varied diet than most children she knew. And for a school teacher of 40 something years, that’s a few children!