Food According To Fletch

Happy 15 months, Fletcher!

The older he gets, the harder it is to feed him, as he gets bored with chewing and swallowing after about three mouthfuls.

Food According To Fletcher:

Mashed Potatoes: Weird. I'm going to pull that out of my mouth and look at it. Oh no, it's stuck to my hand! *rapid hand movements flinging potatoes* Repeat.

Pasta: You got this in the toy aisle, right? *pull out of mouth, study, fling* Repeat.

Cereal in Milk: Yummy! I wonder what it feels like when I squeeze it between my fingers. Oh no, it's stuck to my hand! *scrapes off on nearest, hard-to-clean surface* Repeat.

Milk: Technically, I could hold this cup myself, but I'd rather hold it not quite high enough so you'll hear me sucking air and reluctantly prop it up for me. That frees up my hands for scraping you with my super long nails that I won't let you cut. 

Goldfish, Oyster Crackers, and Dry Cereal: Didn't I have this yesterday? Come on, give me that knife and fork you're eating with. COME ON. I WANT THEM NOW.

Gerber Jar Food: Okay, I'll eat this, at least for a while. When your guard is down I'm going to let it slide out of my mouth and then mash it into every stain-able fabric I can touch in 7 seconds. When you start cleaning up the mess, I'll grab up the spoon, full of food, and drop it on your head. Then I'll totally laugh.

Because eating is a pretty hilarious game.

Not now, I'm on the phone.

Let me buy my bananas, old people.

Andy went away for the weekend, which meant lots of quality time for the boy and me. The weather was so perfect, it would've been a crime to stay inside. After feeding Fletch the leftover chicken casserole for lunch, we played at the park, where he was more interested in the wood chips, grass, and sidewalk than the actual toys. Then I got a sandwich, and finally we went to Pick 'n Save for a few groceries.

I stopped at produce first for bananas, which happen to be the easiest and cheapest food ever to feed him. Then we headed toward the baby food aisle.

Now, Fletch is pretty cute. He gets a lot of attention when we go out. It's especially conspicuous when I'm pushing a stroller through the grocery store instead of a cart. So the few glances we got from strangers were not unusual.

In the baby food aisle, I had to stand around pretending to be interested in greeting cards because a woman was taking up half the aisle, and the other half was blocked by a display. I even read a few cards in an effort not to rush her.

The woman was speaking to her son in Spanish and taking her sweet time with the jars of Gerber. I finally noticed that she also was shooting sidelong looks at my son.

Yeah, lady, we're waiting for you.

It took long enough that I decided to offer Fletch his cup of water. Umm... yeah. It was easy to see the reason he was garnering attention. I don't think you can call it "spit up" when the slime stuck to his shirt, shorts, and stroller actually contains whole noodles. I think we're in vomit territory then.

So I got busy checking the floor and greeting cards for signs of projectile, and he's smiling away at me, and heaven only knows what was being said in Spanish behind me.  Probably, "Asqueroso."

Have you ever tried to take a puke-covered pullover shirt off a toddler who has a big head and a lot of hair? In a Pick 'n Save?? Mere hours after I had washed his hair??? It required much care.

Sometime during Fletcher's public undressing, my Spanish friend disappeared, but it was too late now. I had a stroller full of partially digested puke noodles and a half naked toddler, I wasn't going to bother with shopping. I took my bananas to the checkouts.

When you have only one item, of course, that's when every lane is full and all four self-checkouts have been hijacked by the slowest, most technologically impaired folks you'll ever find. Not only that, they were the folks most likely to stare at and judge the mother of a half-naked toddler in public. LET ME BUY MY BANANAS, OLD PEOPLE, AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN.

Lesson: My son is cute, but sometimes people stare for other reasons.

In which I fit three weeks into one post

It turns out that there's a certain combination of busy and tired that makes it difficult to sit down and write what you want to write into your blog.

Our week of vacation for Fletcher's birthday (and a visit from Uncle Jeremy) went quickly. We didn't take any big trips or "do" anything memorable. Still, it was a turning point for the little person and much has happened for him. Since his birthday...

FIRST:

• Birthday party
• Trip to the zoo
• Seriously walking, even if he looks like a smiling zombie 
• Whole milk and several new foods
• Climbed onto a coffee table
• Played in the McDonald's play area
• Pushed open the screen door and climbed down the concrete steps to get outside
• Went to the pool with Daddy
• Waited until we weren't looking to climb over the barrier to the stairs, which he then climbed and ran around the upstairs hallway by himself with the cats' water dish

 
I'm sure I'm forgetting things; it has all been a blur. I also had a first -- first time I spent all morning making (pureeing) fresh food for Fletcher, which he then refused to eat, and I could swear my mother was out there somewhere smiling as this justice was delivered.

At his doctor appointment he was still underweight at less than 20 pounds, and average for height. In the past week, however, he has shot up like a beanpole.

Since his birthday, he has only nursed once a day. Yesterday, June 10, was my last time breastfeeding. This ending is like cutting off a limb. Also? HORMONES SUCK.

Here comes a crap ton of photos.

BIRTHDAY PARTY:

Checking out Uncle Jeremy

ZOO:

Family photo with elephant ass

RANDOM:

Scrambled eggs make excellent confetti

Wiped out

Climbing onto the diaper box

Climbing the table, finally capturing the iPod

Tuning up the lawn mower

First trip to the pool

lasagna and an air pump

He uses anything and everything to lift himself up to stand, and no cupboard is safe when he's in the mood to pillage and plunder.

more white stuff!

probably not what the walker was intended for

stage 3 lasagna was a HIT

Last night, he opened a door and found the air pump that came with the exercise ball I bought when I was pregnant. It was love at first sight. He spent more than an hour holding his precious air pump. Don't ask me what happened when I took it away from him so we could go to bed. It was too traumatic to relive.

rawrrrr!