The Peanut Chronicles

I love my son. I love him more then anything in the world. Don’t get me wrong, if he does something wrong I’ll call him on it but I still love him. Today, my adorable 7 month old turned into a two year old. All because it was dinnertime.

Round one:

Nut doesn’t want to crawl. He doesn’t dig the whole “tummy time” thing. Instead, the baby bear wants to go straight to standing. I know that he needs to crawl first, but to watch him stand with help is adorable. Today, when going into the high chair, it wasn’t so cute. Paint if you will a picture: here I am placing the nut into his chair and all he does is stand on the seat.

Peanut, please bend your knees,” says I, hoping that by some miracle the words will make sense and like a trained dog, Nut will bend his knees. Instead he responded with “gaaa goooob ba ba ba ba ba” and continued to stand, leaning against the back of the high chair, with a cute little smile on his face.

I try again, this time putting the spoon on the tray. “Peanut, you need to sit down to get the spoon!!” Nutter looks at the spoon and then back at me. He smiles, leans over and picks up the bloody spoon!! Again, the victorious smile as he leans against the chair.

I eventually had to literally bend his knees and plop his booty down. That was a total sigh of relief… until…

Round two:

Today, we got the Nut some new and improved bibs. They are bigger, they are brighter… they have rocket ships on them. And the perk for mommy is that they are wipe down bibs! Oh yes! They are waterproof! I rejoice and do my snoopy happy dance.

However, Nut doesn’t seem to like them (so there is hope he won’t want to follow in dad’s footsteps). I put it on. Instantly he pulls it off. I put it on, again he pulls it off. The kid has reflexes like a ninja. On, off, on, off, on, off…. Wax on… wax off… eventually I have to pull out the big guns to distract him. I whip out and suction cup to the tray his Melissa and George Bee High Chair toy. It’s a wooden bee on a suction cup with pulls strings that make its wings twirl. Nut loves it.

It worked. Nut was distracted enough for me to get the bib on and quickly run to the cupboard and get his favorite meal: puree Carrots.

Round three:

I assumed that because he was so happy with the bee that he would be even happier with his carrots. I was WORNG. The first spoon full of carrots into his mouth, which he usually devours, was met with a pout, a face, and then a raspberry. I kept going, ignoring the fact that he sprayed carrots allover his tabletop. Once again, a raspberry. I put down the spoon to answer the pager (on call still). Nut put his hands in it and started playing. But it gets better… he was eating with his hands. I leaned forward to double check that he was actually eating it and promptly got an ear full of carrots.

By the time we were done eating the carrots, Nut was coated in carrots. However, so was I, having had my little Nutter throw food at me, blow raspberries, grab my glasses, pull my hair, and eventually kick the tray to the ground, spraying carrots every where.

All this ended with us laying on our backs next to each other, COATED in carrots, cracking up and kicking our feet in the air. When daddy bear came home, Nut was handed off and got a bath. I changed out of my PJs and smiled. Yes, there is a huge stain on the carpet I am trying to get out, but I will always have that stain as my momeory of the first food fight with my son.

I've been KOed by carrots and my kid.

1 Comments:

Lisa said...: I tried to post a comment here but it wouldn't let me, Eeek.

What I was trying to say is that he's his own little man. And these little people with their OWN agenda's like to remind us. Often. (As if we'd ever forget!); 12:43 PM

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