Adventures in self-feeding

This past week marked a huge milestone for myself and Baby Z.
After completing a gradual, drawn-out, and emotional end to our nursing relationship (emotional for me, since he seems to be completely content and possibly more satiated with the alternative), we have started venturing into self-feeding territory.

This marks the start of evolving from completely dependent baby to child grasping at threads of independence.

While I’m thrilled to have my body back, and excited to watch my baby grow into his own, there’s a small part of me that wants to hold on to what we had. To the simplicity of his needs and my ability to swiftly decipher and deliver the solution (most of the time).

As he starts the process of discovering the magic of mobility, the world of tastes upon his palate, and the complexity of human relationships, I am committed to gently guiding him along while always offering up my lap for a nap, my shoulder to rest a tired head, my arms for a cuddle, and my heart for always.

Here he is, going to town on some chicken and potatoes




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