So we made the monthly trip to the pediatrician for the five month weigh in and measurements, and my wife and I naturally record everything and obsess over the stats, percentages and doctor comments like “very advanced in motor skills” which make us so proud.
We got all you’d hope for in the visit: our daughter’s healthy, developing normally, and looking great. And did I mention she’s very advanced in her motor skills?
But toward the end of the appointment we got thrown a massive curve: the green light on solid food.
Now we knew this was coming. We did. But with that green light my wife and I reverted to some kind of not-ready-for-primetime-parent mode that had the doc looking at us like “are you kidding?”
We started stammering well what do we do? Shouldn’t there be some kind of take home instructions like we got at the hospital? What food do we buy? When do we start? How do we start? Do we use a spoon? What about temperature? What about the baby’s position? What if what that what when what how what who what what what what help.
And the doctor, essentially, said “you can’t screw this up.” But of course, we fear we can screw this up. Rice cereal has suddenly become a mind-boggling obstacle that we will likely talk about for 24 hours ahead of a cringeworthy attempt at first solid food feeding (which will be recorded in video and still form, of course).
Heading directly to the store from the appointment, we labored in ingredient-obsessed paralysis and then posed for a few “baby’s first solid food–the shopping trip” shots. Thankfully, it was not rush hour at the store and there were few witnesses.
I swear, we’re relatively intelligent, mature adults. We’ve seen things, done things, and had very few problems with any of them. So why all of a sudden do I need a checklist and some Ikea-style instruction charts to figure out how to put cereal in my daughter’s mouth?