Finn’s independent wielding of nine or ten, mango-filled spoons resulted in a small disaster, but it was nothing a little bath couldn’t clean. Since Finn loves spoons, food, AND baths, I suppose he lucked out on all counts. I, however, am the luckiest of all. I mean, LOOK at this guy! He’s precious — clean OR dirty.
If there were a “floor rolling” category in the olympics, Finn would be on the team, but crawling is another story. He has yet to figure out how to get his perpendicular leg out of the way. When he tries to move forward, the leg blocks his passage like a little safety bar. Usually he backs off and resorts to rolling wherever he wants to go; lately, however, he’s taking more risks. Here he is in motion, taking both a chance and a tumble:
Any day now, he may just pull it off!
Despite the fact that we live in South Florida, as of yesterday afternoon Finn had never seen the blue breadth of the ocean or felt the grainy sand of the beach under his toes or between his fingers. I’ve been vigilant about protecting his virgin skin from the sun during the day and maintaining his bedtime routine at night, but his introduction to this beautiful, new side of home was overdue. It’s definitely not getting any cooler down here, after all, and soon enough, even evening visits to the beach may be too stuffy.
We planned a sunset picnic in Surfside with some friends and their two kids. It was quite an experience: the wind took on a life of its own; the water was choppy and loud; kite-surfers struggled with their giant, colorful, billowing sails in the shallow water alongside us. We tried to keep the lids on our food containers, enjoying a bite at a time.
Most importantly, Finn seemed to love it all:
He even bonded a little with Summer, our friends’ daughter:
We need to get Finn’s fat, little feet out to the beach more often and take advantage of one of the benefits of living here!
I’m not saying I was a grinch before, but I suspect that motherhood has changed the dimensions and composition of my heart. It is at least 77 times bigger (and growing by the day), much mushier, and now fits only outside my body, vulnerable and exposed to all the elements. Oh, where will I put it come next mother’s day?
All of the “food” postings may be getting a little tedious, but this one is well worth it. Our fat, little seven-month old has developed quite a sense of humor — and even a mosquito attack (see forehead!), a severe face rash (teething again!), and the onset of a cold couldn’t dampen his mood when food and fun came together. In all actuality, though, despite the fact that Finn absolutely LOVED his introduction to bananas, his “festive” spirit (a.k.a delirium) had little to do with food and more to do with insufficient napping combined with Daddy’s special talent for sound effects.
Month seven seems like it’s going to be lots of fun…
By eating as a family rather than feeding Finn separately, we’re hoping to establish meaningful rituals, share good eating habits, and model proper behavior. Generally speaking, this arrangement has worked out well: Finn is an enthusiastic eater, loves to interact with us at the table, and even makes obligatory “mmm” sounds on cue after taking a bite. His second experience with pears, however, produced a new reaction:
It IS funny, but in all seriousness, I think it’s less about the pears (although clearly quite delicious) and more about self-empowerment: Finn’s pretty demanding about wanting to hold his spoon — and pretty amused by watching it hit the floor. We keep a pile of spoons on the table, and at the end of every family meal, a scatter of different colored spoons decorate the floor at the foot of his Stokke chair. Are we encouraging development and self-sufficiency, or creating a cute, little monster? At least he doesn’t put his elbows on the table, right?
This little pool is even smaller than the tub in which Finn takes his nightly bath, but it’s good enough to accommodate a sweet, late afternoon dip for two in the garden! Life is often simple these days, but oh, so lovely.