One of the perks of having a kid is that I get to cherish her every single baby step toward adulthood. The most recent one is her effort to join the league of solid-eaters. It definitely wasn’t easy getting her started, and even to this point, we are not yet over the bumpy part of the journey. Seeing how my friends’ children gobble up every bite like baby sharks, and then my own daughter’s squirmy face, the only thing I can do is … taking a picture.
Don’t ask me how I know, but I’m quite sure that’s how I looked when I started eating solid food. My clue comes from my parents’ tireless retelling of the woeful stories of my firm stance against eating which continued well into my school years. To be honest, I can also corroborate their stories through my personal recollections, although mine exist mostly as flashes of trauma.
That’s why I sincerely hope my kid won’t take after me in terms of eating, and pray that this is simply a phase to grow out of eventually, much like how I grew out of mine in my 20’s. So far, aside from an egg-white-related allergy scare that got her entire chin rosy red, I would say she’s on a steadily upward trajectory to finally join us at the table.
To be fair, her misgivings about food are probably due to how boring her food is, but our hands are tied on this one. I would rather make her steak dinner and white wine chorizo mussels, but apparently, babies don’t do salt (or alcohol). So she just has to stare down the purest form of ingredients while watching us enjoy our gourmet options for the time being.
Sorry, kiddo.
~ Du