You know, this whole baby-raising thing can get pretty fucking confusing. If you start listening to all the voices giving you advice, it's only a matter of time before all the voices start bouncing around in your head and you start feeling like the Son of Sam.
I bring this up because apparently the BossLady and I have completely screwed up the Peanut's natural progression to solid food. We were so reliant on breast milk and formula that we kind of spaced out on the whole introduction to alternative forms of nutrition. Now, we're convinced that the Peanut is only going to drink formula for the rest of her life. I picture her in college getting strange looks from her dorm mates as she stocks her little mini-fridge with Costco-sized containers of Similac.
For the first 4 months of her life, our little girl was hooked on breast milk (as was I). It was titty juice all day, all night and all the time. But gradually we started having the Peanut get used to formula. Every once in awhile, we'd give her some baby cereal or a jar of organic baby food. But we were pretty inconsistent and often a week would go by when she'd consume nothing but formula.
So imagine our surprise when we were browsing through our massive library of baby books the other day. Dr. Spock says infants can have fruit and juice as early as 4 months old. Dr. Sears says certain solid foods should certainly be introduced by the age of 6 months. Even our own personal pediatrician, the famed Dr. Michel Cohen, says that we can feed the Peanut virtually anything (except dairy) as early as 6 months.
Well, the Peanut is now 9 months old. So to make up for lost time, we spent the past week letting her enjoy everything that her parents ate. Our doc suggested that we feed the Peanut everything we were eating. This would not only make our life easier in the future but also it would ensure that we wouldn't have to prepare two sets of meals all the time. So we did. And well, tickle me Emeril! Turns out my daughter eats everything! Just in the past three days alone, we've fed her kalamata olives, potato gnocchi, steak, cayenne-peppered corn, crab meat, apple strudel, miso-crusted black cod, croissants, steamed pork dumplings and sesame bread. The only thing she didn't like? Blueberries.
As a self-confessed "foodie", I couldn't be happier. It's like getting a positive result from a paternity test (she's MY daughter, world! You hear that?) Food is one of my many passions and I spend an inordinate amount of time, energy and resources devoted to it. To think that my daughter and I already have a shared passion almost brings tears to my eyes. Not really. But you know what I'm talking about.
Another funny aspect of feeding the Peanut all this adult food? Seeing my lovely wife's heart swell with pride as she proudly announced that our daughter laid her very first turd the other day. We were going to photograph it so we could embarass her during her teenage years but we decided against it. Instead, we chose to stick the turd in the freezer until it petrifies. That way, the Peanut will really be able to appreciate it many years from now.
I'm kidding, people. What kind of sick fuck do you think I am? Wait, don't answer that. Just do me a favor and pass me a cold bottle of breast milk, will ya?